Skyfall
by purplepagoda
Summary: A case strikes a nerve, with Olivia. Will she re-evaluate her own life, and spill some of he secrets? Will Nick starting digging up things, about her past? Will another murder finally bring the truth to light? What if everything you thought you knew about your partner, was based on a lie? Will Olivia's world come crashing down around her, when the truth is revealed?
1. Mystery Man

She has spent most of her adult life, protecting, and serving. It's her job. She's spent most of her life protecting him. She sits at her desk, in silence. It's a rainy, grey, Saturday afternoon, and she's at work, as per usual. She has a case she is working on, but her mind is elsewhere. The knot in the pit of her stomach, reminds her of the guilt that she feels. She tries to focus on her work, but she can't. The life of her victim, reminds her of her own. They are both full of secrets, half-truths, and some flat out lies.

* * *

_Earlier that morning-_

_She enters the corner office, of the CFO, of a large company. She sees the puddle of blood, before she sees the body. She takes a step, closer to the desk, and she sees her. A victim who has been sexually assaulted, and brutally murdered. She looks over at Nick._

_"It's Saturday, they're not open, are they?"_

_"She, and the CEO were supposed to have a meeting this morning, for a couple of hours, about budget cuts. The CEO is Todd Holland. He called here this morning, to tell her he would be late. She didn't answer. When he got here, he went straight to his office."_

_"He's the one who found her?"_

_"He checked his voicemail, shortly after he arrived. It was a girl, who identified herself as Macy. She said she was looking for the victim, Stacey Riley, that she was her daughter. He came in here, and found her."_

_"I don't see any pictures of a kid," Olivia comments._

_"Nobody here, knew she had a daughter."_

_"Does she?"_

_"I guess we'll find out."_

_The phone, on the desk rings. Olivia looks at Nick, he shrugs. She answers it, putting it on speaker phone. _

_"Hello, mom?" the voice on the other end answers._

_"No, this is detective Benson."_

_"Detective?"_

_"Who is this?" _

_"This is Macy. I am looking for my mom."_

_"Who is your mom?"_

_"Stacey Riley. She never came home last night."_

_"Macy, how old are you?"_

_"Twelve. Why are you there? Did something happen to her?"_

_"Macy, are you home alone?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Ok, sweetie, I want you to listen to me. Stay there. I will be there shortly. Do not open the door for anyone but me. My name is detective Benson. When I come to the door, I will identify myself, and I will show you my badge, ok?"_

_"Ok."_

* * *

"Did you hear me?" her partner questions.

She looks up at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't."

"You seem distracted today."

"I just keep thinking about that little girl."

"It's sad. I mean, how do you have a child, and never tell any of your co-workers? She worked at that company, for eleven years. Why wouldn't she mention it?"

"I don't know. Maybe she thought it was the only way she could protect her daughter," Olivia suggests.

He shakes his head, "I could understand if she put up a baby picture of her, instead of a recent one, but not to have a single picture of her, in her office. She never mentioned her, to a single co-worker. Her CEO said that most weeks she worked sixty hours."

"Look, Nick, let's not judge her. Maybe she had a good reason."

"Like what?"

"We still have to track down the father," she reminds him.

"John Miller? Yeah, that's going to be a real cake-walk. Do we even know if that's his real name."

"The girl was twelve. She's seen her father. She has visitation with him. I am pretty sure she would know his name."

"But her last name is Riley. There is something strange about this story."

"I agree."

He looks at his watch, "But I am starving, so I am going to grab some lunch, while I ponder the twists, and wrong turns of our victim's life. You coming with me?"

"No."

"You going to stay here?"

"I am leaving. I'm meeting someone for lunch," she reveals.

"Oh. Ok. I'll see you back here, in a little while."

* * *

When she enters the coffee shop, he's already there. He's sitting at a table, near a window, at the back of the coffee shop. She makes a beeline for him, avoiding the long lines. She takes a seat, across the table from him. He flashes her a million dollar smile. She finds the cup of warm liquid, sitting at the table, in front of her. There is also a salad, from one of her favorite places.

She looks across the table. He's dressed very casually. He's wearing a form-fitting grey t-shirt, and a pair of athletic pants. He looks at her, with big, bright eyes. He sips his drink. She shakes her head.

"How many times have I told you that stuff is going to kill you?" she looks at the silver can.

"It's just an energy drink."

"It is a heart attack in a can."

"Are you here to lecture me, or to spend time with me?" he calls her out.

"Not to lecture you," she concedes.

"I was surprised when you called me this morning."

"You were still asleep, weren't you?"

"No I was getting ready to head to the gym."

"Did you work out?"

He grins, revealing his dimples, "You know that I did. I am surprised you could take time out of your busy day, for me."

"It looks like this is going to be a pretty rough case," she admits.

"They always are, aren't they?"

"Yes," she nods.

"So, basically, you're feeling guilty, because you have barely seen me, in days?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"That's nothing new, is it?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I brought you lunch."

"You're the sweetest, most thoughtful guy I know."

"You have to say that," he reminds her.

"I wouldn't say it, if it wasn't true."

"I know that."

She looks at her watch, "I should probably get back."

"Ok."

"Love you," she reminds him.


	2. Zebra?

She gets home, just after midnight. She locks the door, and dumps her gun, and badge on the counter. She takes a deep breath, the first one she's taken all day. She calls out.

"I'm home. Are you still up?"

He spits the toothpaste into the sink, rinses his brush, and flips off the bathroom light. He steps into the hallway. He makes his way towards the living room. He finds her sorting through the mail that she's found on the counter. He's wearing blue checkered pajama bottoms, and a blue t-shirt, with the sleeves cut out. She looks at him, and shakes her head.

"What?"

"You and your muscle shirts," she rolls her eyes.

"I have 'em, I might as well flaunt them," he points out, flexing his muscles.

"Ok, put the guns away, I have seen them before."

"Fine."

"Where did you learn to be so cocky?"

He shrugs, "It just comes natural."

"I don't want to hear that," she argues.

"What do you want to hear?"

"That you missed me."

He wraps his arms around her, enveloping her in a bear hug. He lifts her off the ground.

"We talked about this," she reminds him. He sits her back down.

"Why do you have to be such a party pooper? Two feet on the ground is a stupid rule."

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Why? It's just after midnight."

"You have church in the morning."

"You never go, so why do you care?"

"Don't argue with me," she warns.

"I think I can take you," he teases.

"Really?" she raises an eyebrow.

"You've got one gun," he flexes his muscles, and grins, "and I have two."

She shakes her head, "I am glad that you are so modest."

"I am modest."

"You have a big ego," she disagrees.

"That isn't my fault," he insists

"That isn't the point," she counters.

"Are you staying up, for a while?" he inquires.

"No. I am going to take a shower, and go to bed."

"This early?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, and you should go to bed, too."

"You're a kill joy."

"That is my job."

"So did you finish your case?"

"No."

"So you have to work in the morning?"

"Yes."

"What about..." he begins.

She cuts him off, "I will be there."

* * *

The following day, they finally catch the killer. It's nearly three p.m. by the time they send him to the tombs. Olivia takes a seat at her desk, and looks at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. She looks around the room. Her partner is the only other person there. He sits at his desk, diligently working on his paperwork. He is paying no attention to her. He sits there, filling out his paperwork. She moves a file towards the center of the desk. She pauses, and reaches into the drawer. Her purse is inside. She digs around, until she finds what she's looking for. She pulls the picture out, and looks at it.

The edges are worn. It's her favorite picture. It's one that she's had for a while. She smiles, thinking about the day it was taken, ten years earlier. She looks up, from her desk, her partner looks away, returning his focus to his paperwork. She shoves the picture back in her purse. She pulls the purse out of her drawer. She slams the drawer shut. She puts the file back onto the pile.

Nick looks up at her, in confusion. She doesn't have anywhere else to be, what is her hurry? She seems anxious, in fact she has, all day. His gut tells him something is up, but he tries to ignore it. His brain doesn't seem to get the message. She pushes the chair out, and stands up. She pushes the chair under the desk.

"Where are you going?"

"The paperwork can wait."

"I agree, but do you have somewhere better to be?" he quizzes her.

"Yes."

"Yes? Where do you have to be?"

"Anywhere but here," she answers, revealing nothing.

"I see."

She looks at her watch, "You know, if you leave now, you can make it to D.C. before dark."

"I am going to go pick Zara up next weekend."

"You could see her for a few hours tonight, before she goes to bed."

"Yeah, and then she'll throw a crying, screaming fit before bed, because she doesn't want me to go."

"She's only going to be that age, once," Olivia reminds him.

"I know, and it kills me."

"You can't get the time back," she adds.

"Are you leaving, so that I don't feel obligated to stay?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I am leaving, because I have somewhere to be."

"Hot date?"

"Hardly."

"What about that mystery man you've been seeing?"

"I am seeing him later tonight."

"Who are you going to see, now?"

"Who said that I was going to see, anyone?"

"You said you had somewhere else to be."

"Maybe I have laundry to do," she insists.

"I don't buy it. You are nit-picky about paperwork. You don't like to have more than six files on your desk that need to be done, at any one time. Where do you have to be that is so important, you can't finish one more?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Who are you going to see?"

She heads towards the elevator, "My kid," she mutters, under her breath.

He stops dead in his tracks, as the elevator doors open. He stands there, with his mouth wide open, as she gets on the elevator. He watches as the doors close. He remains, frozen, for several seconds.


	3. On The Couch

Finally, the dumbfounded look on his face wears off. He goes after her. By the time he reaches the outside of the building she's leaving. He pulls out his phone, and dials a familiar number.

"Yeah?" the voice on the other end answers.

"Fin?"

"Yeah, Nick, whatcha need?"

"I just had the weirdest thing happen."

"And you called me because?"

"You know how anal Olivia is, when it comes to paperwork."

"I do."

"She has a whole stack of files on her desk."

"So?"

"More than six, and she left."

"She left?"

"Yeah."

"Did she have a hot date?"

"No."

"Where did she have to be, at three o'clock, on a Sunday?"

"That's what I wanted to know," Nick admits.

"What did she say?" Fin wonders.

"She didn't tell me where she was going," Nick adds.

"Oh, so why did you call me?"

"I haven't gotten to the weirdest part yet," Nick explains.

"Ok?" Fin waits.

"I asked her who was so important."

"And?"

"She said her kid."

"Her what?"

"I could have sworn she said her kid," Nick reveals.

"You misheard her."

"I don't think so."

"Olivia doesn't have a kid," Fin argues.

"Are you sure about that?"

"I am pretty sure that isn't something that I would have missed."

"So, you think I am just imagining things?"

"Yeah, go home, get some rest."

"Yeah, ok," he hangs up.

* * *

She gets home, and closes the door, behind her. She looks over at the couch, and finds that it's occupied. The TV is on, but the occupant of the couch is sound asleep. She grabs the remote off the coffee table, and flips the TV off. He reaches up, and grabs her other arm.

"What are you doing?" he asks, opening his eyes.

"Turning the TV off."

"I was watching that."

"With your eyes closed?"

"I was listening to it."

"You were asleep."

"No, I wasn't," he argues.

"You're drooling."

"Maybe I was asleep."

"That is exactly where you were, this morning when I left," she points out.

"You're not the only one who likes to sleep on the couch."

"Have you been there all day?"

"No."

"What time did you go to bed?"

"Don't worry about it," he responds.

He lays on his stomach, with his head turned towards her. Without another word she sits on him. She repeats her question, "What time did you go to bed?"

"About four."

"So you've been on the couch, all day?"

"No, I went to church this morning."

"Did you go to the gym?"

"I came home after church, and changed, and then I went to the gym."

"Did you get your laundry done?"

"No, I fell asleep, on the couch, after I went to the gym," he admits.

She gets up, and he sits up. She looks at her watch.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"What time is it?"

"Three thirty," she tells him, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.

"I have plenty of time."

"You spend more time in the bathroom than I do."

"Are you coming, tonight?"

"That was my plan."

"You make a lot of plans that fall through," he points out.

"I am sorry. I am not..."

He cuts her off, "Don't go there. I am not having this conversation with you, again."

"Ok."

"So are you going to tell me about your case?"

"We caught the guy."

"Yesterday, when you got home, you seemed really upset. What happened?"

"I told you the same old stuff."

He shakes his head, "Don't lie to me."

"The victim worked at the same place for over ten years. Not a single person that she worked with knew that she had a kid. She didn't tell anyone."

"Oh."

"All you have to say, is oh?"

"What do you want me to say?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Don't dwell on it," he suggests.

"How can I not?"

"I am not a shrink, so, I don't know. Even if I were, I wouldn't want to be yours."

"That is... probably true. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

He shakes his head, "No, we should talk about it."


	4. Can Of Worms

"Ethan, I don't think we should open this can of worms, again," she admits.

"Mom, I'm not a little kid, anymore," he reminds her.

She smiles, "I know that."

"I am sixteen. I am almost an adult. I think we can have this conversation."

He scoots towards the other end of the couch. He pats the seat next to him. She relocates to the cushion near him.

"I understand," he begins.

She shakes her head, "You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"You're sixteen years old. You shouldn't understand that I have never told any of my co-workers about you. I have never mentioned you. I have made a lot of mistakes as a parent, and that is one of them."

"Why is it that all you can ever see, is the mistakes? Why don't you ever see all of the good?"

"I am a cop," she reminds him.

"You don't have to remind me. I know that, better than anyone. I might be your kid, but you're married to your job."

"I have never been there for you, as much as I should. I have put in too many sixty plus hour weeks. I am your only parent, and I really screwed up."

"You had to put food on the table."

She marvels, at the young man sitting next to her. He's sixteen, six foot two. He's muscular, and handsome. He's got big blue eyes, and short dark hair. The best part about him, is his personality. She can do without some of the ego, but she can't deny how good of a kid he is.

"How did I get so lucky?" she wonders.

"What do you mean?"

"To have completely screwed up, just about everything in your life, and have you turn out to be such an incredible human being?"

"You didn't screw up. You were always there when it mattered. You taught me all of the important lessons that I needed to know."

"I taught you that it was important to be honest, to tell the truth. I always told you that you should lead by example, but I haven't."

"And you also emphasized to do the things you say, not the things you do."

"You do listen, sometimes."

"I always hear you, sometimes I just have to learn things on my own."

"You're stubborn."

"I get it from you."

"I think that it's time," she tells him.

He looks at the clock, "I have plenty of time, before my game."

"That isn't what I mean. I think that it's time I came clean."

"Why? I know that your intention has always been to protect me."

"But at what cost?"

"Why, all of a sudden do you want to come clean?"

"Because I feel guilty, all of the time," she admits. "I feel guilty, for leaving you alone, so much. I feel guilty for not sharing you, with the world. I feel guilty, because," she trails off.

"Because?"

"I took an opportunity from you, that wasn't mine to take."

"What are you talking about?"

"You spent your entire childhood without a father. That is my fault. I shouldn't have been so selfish."

"It wasn't selfish."

"I thought that I was trying to protect you, but I was really just trying to protect myself."

"It's okay," he insists.

"It is not okay," she argues, "not for a minute."

"I don't want to talk about this," he tells her.

"Why not?"

He shakes his head, "I just don't."

"What's changed? Every year you beg me to tell you. You ask me about him. I am willing to tell you, and you don't want to know, all of the sudden?"

"It isn't important."

"Why aren't you angry at me?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Why would I be?"

"You have always been angry at me, for not telling you about him. I know that you probably felt betrayed. You felt like I took something from you. Why aren't you angry?"

"Do you want me to be angry?"

"I want to know why you're not."

"I told you I don't want to talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Because," he looks away, "it doesn't matter."

She scrutinizes the look on his face, as he stares off, into the distance. For a moment she thinks back, to another time.

* * *

_He stomps down the hallway, in his dress shoes. He's still in his clothes, from church. She follows down the hallway, after him. He slams the door, in her face. She pushes the door open. He sits on his bed, with his arms folded across his chest. She squats down, in front of him. She tries to look him in the eye, but he won't meet her glance. He's wearing a pair of black dress pants, and a blue button down shirt. He has a silver tie on. He looks sharp. _

_The seven year finally looks up at her. He scowls at her. His nostrils flare._

_"Go away!"_

_"Go away? I am your mother, I am not going anywhere."_

_"Why are you so mean?"_

_"Mean?"_

_"Why can't you just tell me?"_

_"Ethan," she begins, in a soft tone._

_"Don't!" he growls._

_"You need to lose the attitude."_

_"I am mad at you," he admits._

_"I know that."_

_"Just tell me! Every one else knows about their dad. Why won't you just tell me. Tell me who he is. Why haven't I met him? Didn't he want me?"_

_Her heart sinks. A lump forms in her throat. She swallows hard, to keep the tears from coming. She finds it incredibly difficult to maintain her exposure._

_"Ethan, it isn't that he didn't want you."_

_"Then what?"_

_"It's complicated," she explains, "I will try to explain it to you, when you're older."_

_"I am the man of the house, I can take it."_

_She smirks, "You know how much I love you?"_

_"Yes," he nods._

_"Then you have to trust me. You're not old enough to understand."_


	5. Good Kid

"It always mattered, before," she points out.

"I am not a little kid. I know why you didn't tell me. It wasn't for selfish reasons, either. You weren't trying to protect yourself. You were being selfless. You were trying to protect him. You were trying to protect me from the heart ache. I understand."

"Do you know something, that you're not telling me?"

He makes eye contact, with a guilty look on his face, "It never made sense to me. You always made me feel like your whole world."

"You are my whole world."

"Why is why I could never understand. It didn't make sense, that you wouldn't tell anyone. It seemed to strange, that you wouldn't want to share me with the world."

"I am sorry."

"You couldn't. You couldn't tell them about me, because then you would have to tell them the truth. The truth, that you have never shared with anyone, not even me."

"Ethan."

"Can I ask you something?"

Olivia nods.

"What did my grandmother say?"

"When?"

"When you told her that you were pregnant, what did she say?"

"She didn't say anything."

"Did she ever ask..."

She cuts him off, "Never. She didn't care. It didn't matter to her. She had you, and that's all that she needed. You were the only joy in her life."

"So, why didn't she ever stop drinking?"

"Ethan, I can't answer that, I don't know. I don't think she knew how to love anyone, but herself. I know that the closest she ever came, was in being your grandmother."

"I barely remember her."

"I know. That was one of the hardest things that I ever had to explain to you."

"I was four," he recalls.

"I thought it would get easier."

"What?"

"Explaining things to you, but as you got older, your questions got more complicated."

"Don't tell them."

She furrows her brow, "Why not?"

"Because they don't need to know. I know that you want to clear your guilty conscience, but I don't think that is going to do it."

"I am sure that it won't."

"Are we done?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I don't need you to tell me, I already know."

"You think you know," she argues.

"I already know."

"We don't have to talk about it," she concedes.

"What are we having for dinner?"

"You'll probably go out for Pizza, with the team, after basketball, won't you?"

"I think that I'll probably just come home."

"You aren't going to go out with your friends?"

"Nah, I can see them anytime."

"You are the weirdest sixteen year old boy that I know."

"I am trying to get the..."

She cuts him off, "You are not going to earn the keys to the Mustang, by sucking up to me."

* * *

She sits in the bleachers, in a gymnasium. She listens, as the sneakers squeak against the floor. She watches, as a group of sweaty teenaged boys run back and forth, from one hoop, to the other. The man sitting next to her nudges her. He points.

"Number six, that's my boy."

She smiles, "Six?"

"Yeah," he confirms, "One of them yours?"

"Number fifteen, he's mine."

"Fifteen is your son?" he looks at her, in disbelief.

"Yes," she confirms.

"He's the star forward," he comments.

"Yep, that's my boy."

"He looks familiar, does he play football?"

"And baseball," she adds.

"Is he the one who scored the winning touchdown, last season, during the play offs?"

"Yep, that would be him."

"How old is he?"

"He's sixteen."

"Sophomore, or junior?"

"He is a junior."

"I think my son told me about him. He's a straight A student too, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"How do you keep him on top of his school work, with all of his extra-curricular activities?"

"He's pretty self motivated. He knows that if he wants to play, he has to stay keep his grades up."

"I can barely get mine to crack a book."

"Ethan is a responsible kid."

* * *

When they get home, he heads straight to the shower. When he gets out, he finds that Olivia is half-asleep, on the couch. He jumps over the back of the couch. He sits down, on the end, just past her feet.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

"Pizza should be here any minute."

"Excellent."

"That was a good game."

"We won, that's all that matters," he tries to goad her.

"Winning, that's all that matters?" she raises an eyebrow.

He smiles at her, "No ma'am the most important thing is sportsmanship. Then the next most important thing, is winning."

She just shakes her head.

"What?" he raises an eyebrow.

"You're ornery."

"I am a good kid. I am at home, with my mom, when I could be out, with my friends."

"I know."

"I don't drink, or party. I always do my homework. I am a good student, and I am a gentleman."

"I am very lucky to have such a good kid," she admits.

"But if you ever catch me in a lie..." he begins.

"That isn't what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say."

"Prom is in a few months," she points out.

"Yeah, like three months. Why are you bringing it up?"

"I thought you might want to impress whoever you take."

"I don't even know who I am taking yet."

"Don't remind me that you have a new girlfriend, every single week."

"I never claimed that I didn't have a short attention span."

"Anyway, if nothing changes, between now, and then, I was thinking that I may, possibly let you..."

He cuts her off, "You're going to let me drive black beauty?"

"Maybe."


	6. Half The Truth

Monday morning rolls around, all too soon. She finds herself back at work, with a pile of paperwork on her desk. She goes in an hour early, to try to dig herself out of the pile. Her partner has already arrived, when she gets there. She takes a seat at her desk. He looks up at her, from his.

"Did you have a good day, yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?"

"I went to a basketball game."

"I think that I misunderstood, what you said, yesterday," he admits, from across the room.

She shakes her head, "I don't think so."

"But.."

"Don't worry about it."

He furrows his brow, "But you said that you were going to see your kid," he presses.

"I know what I said."

"So you were just trying to throw me for a loop?"

She shrugs, "If that's what you want to think," her non-verbals remain neutral.

"But you don't actually have a kid," he points out.

"Ok," she pulls a file off the pile, and opens it up. She begins to write. She can feel his eyes boring a hole through her skull, but she doesn't look up.

"Do you?" he questions.

She doesn't answer. She continues to write, as if she hasn't heard him.

"Why are you yanking my chain?" he inquires.

Again she gives no response.

"Olivia, are you listening?" he wonders.

"I am trying to tune you out."

He pushes his chair out. He walks over to her desk. He stops, at the side of the desk. He looks down at her. She tilts her head up, to make eye contact.

"Why would you say that?" he tries to get to the bottom of things.

"Say what?" she plays coy.

"What you said, yesterday?"

"Why not?"

"Why would you say something that isn't true?"

"Maybe it is," she replies, without a single hint of emotion.

"Yeah, but I would know, if you had a kid."

"You don't know everything about me," she counters.

"Someone would know."

"If you have something to ask, you should just come out with it," she suggests.

"Do you have a kid?"

"That is not any of your business," she replies.

A light bulb goes off, in his head, "You were talking about Calvin, weren't you?"

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Nick, don't you have paperwork to do?"

"I am almost finished," he insists.

"Then you could do some of mine."

"No, thank you."

"Then, I suggest that we stop playing twenty questions, so that I can get my work done."

"But..." he tries to argue. Before he can finish his thought, their phones are ringing. The calls summon them to a crime scene, and cut their conversation short.

* * *

She makes it home, after midnight. She quietly closes the door, and sets aside her gun, badge, and keys. She carefully places them on the counter. Instead of heading straight to her room, she heads down the hallway. She stops, outside the door, that is to her left. It is ajar. She hesitates for a moment, but quickly makes her decision. She pushes the door open, just wide enough for her to get through. She steps into the room. It's dark.

There is no window in the room. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust. She carefully maneuvers her way around a gym bag, a back pack, and dirty clothes, that create an obstacle course, on the floor. She stops, once she reaches the head of the bed. She stands there, in silence. She briefly looks at the clock. _1218_. She refocuses her eyes. She stands there, in silence, as she watches, and listens. She listens to him breathe in, and out, as he sleeps. He lies in bed, lying on his side. His blanket is halfway off him. She takes a deep breath, and inhales the smell of sweaty socks, and body spray. He lies there, unmoving.

"You're doing that thing, again," he warns her, without opening his eyes.

"What thing?"

"That creepy thing you always do."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she argues.

"Where you come into my room, in the middle of the night, and watch me sleep," he explains.

"You're crazy. I wasn't watching you sleep. I just came in to check on you."

"Check on me? I am not an infant. I won't stop breathing in my sleep, or anything," he reminds her.

"I just wanted to make sure you were in bed, asleep."

"Are you going to continue to do this, when I move out?"

"That isn't for a few years."

"Answer the question," he insists, as he reaches past her, towards the nightstand. He flips on his lamp.

"I don't plan on it."

"You never plan it, it just happens."

"I am sorry. You will just have to get over it. I am your mother. It is my job to worry about you. It is my duty to make sure that you're safe, and sound."

"At least you don't crawl into bed with me, anymore."

"I never did that," she argues.

"Really? I seem to remember waking up, in the middle of the night, when I was five, or six, and you were in my bed, sound asleep."

"Ethan, you had been sick, for three days."

"It's creepy."

"How is it creepy?"

"How would you like it, if you woke up, in the middle of night, with someone in your bed, who wasn't there, when you went to bed?"

"I would wake up, with your feet in my face, when you were little. Sometimes, instead of feet in the face, I would an elbow to the rib."

"When I was like two."

"When you were two? Ethan, I seem to recall that you slept with me most nights, until you went to pre-school."

"I don't remember that."

"You have selective memory, just like you have selective hearing," she accuses him.

"That isn't the point I am trying to make."

"What point are you trying to make?"

"Nobody wants to wake up in the middle of the night, with someone standing over them."

"Sorry."

"I have school in the morning, so if you don't mind, I am going to go back to sleep."

"I don't mind."

"You should leave my room, and go to your own bed."

She turns out the light. "Goodnight," she slowly makes her way through the maze, to his door.

"Night, mom."

"Love you," she whispers from the doorway.


	7. Challenge

_She's sound asleep, when she hears a squeak. She opens her eyes, and her breath hitches. She tries to orient herself to her surroundings. She hears the sound of footsteps coming towards her. Her heart beats rapidly. She unconsciously holds her breath. Bare feet smack against the floor. They stop, when they reach the side of her bed. Suddenly someone catapults into bed, next to her, and finally she exhales. _

_"Buddy, what are you doing, in here?" she questions the three year old, in the dark._

_"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in here?" _

_She folds back the covers. She pats the spot next to her, in bed. _

_"Come on."_

_He quickly slips under the covers. She pulls them over him. His feet touch the back of her legs._

_"Your feet are cold. What happened to your socks?"_

_"The bed ate 'em, again."_

_She rolls over, and kisses him on the forehead. "Goodnight, Ethan. I love you."_

_"Love you, too, mommy."_

* * *

She wakes up, to the sound of a door shutting. She groans, as she rolls towards the alarm clock. _502_. She hears banging, and slamming coming from the other room. She pulls the covers back, and slides out of bed. She heads for the door. She pulls the door open, the rest of the way, and leaves the room. She is nearly blinded by the light, coming from above the oven, in the kitchen. She finds Ethan standing in the refrigerator, with the door wide open.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Eating breakfast," he answers, as he takes the milk from the fridge.

"Why are you up so early?"

"I get up this early every morning, during the week. You should know that."

"Why?"

"I go for a run, before school."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to die of heart disease, or cancer," he answers, pulling the blender out of the cabinet.

"What are you making?"

"A protein shake," he answers.

"Do you have a protein shake every morning?"

"Yeah."

"And I sleep through that?"

"When you're still here, I close your door."

"Wait a minute. You will wash the blender, every morning, but you won't wash your cup out when you're done?"

"My cup can go in the dishwasher. To get all the pieces from the blender clean, I have to wash it by hand."

"You don't do dishes," she reminds him.

"I unload the dishwasher, on occasion."

"You don't load it, that's for sure."

"That's your job," he teases.

"Did you get your laundry done?"

"Not exactly. Do you want one?" he questions as he mixes wheat grass into the concoction, in the blender.

"No."

"Try something new," he suggests.

"Not in a million years would I drink grass."

"You'll drink a bean, or a leaf, but not a grass? A leaf is not that different from a blade of grass." he poses the question.

"I am not drinking that swill."

"It will keep you young."

"I have you for that. What's with this health kick, anyway? A couple of days ago you were drinking an energy drink."

"I had been studying all night, for midterms."

"On a Friday night?"

"You never studied on a Friday night?"

"No."

"I do. I am a good kid, remember?"

"I know."

"So, do you want to run with me?"

"No. It's cold out there."

"You have a coat."

"It's early. I am going back to bed."

"You're already up. You could spend some quality time with me, before you go to work," he makes sure to play the guilt card.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Please," he begs.

"I don't think so. I have to go to work, soon."

"Excuses, excuses."

"You're afraid that I'll make you look bad, aren't you?"

"No."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"I will stay at a reasonable pace. Please. You'll probably work late, and then you'll feel bad because you passed up this opportunity."

"Fine," she agrees.

* * *

It's still dark, when they leave the apartment. Less than two blocks from where they started she begins to regret her decision, as her legs begin to burn. He seems to run faster, and faster. She has a hard time keeping pace with him. They get to a crosswalk, and she elbows him, in the arm. He stops. He looks over at her. He sees that she's having a hard time catching her breath.

"You ok, old woman?" he teases her.

The cold air stings her cheeks. Her face turns red, in anger, even though she knows he's only trying to get at her. The sign changes, and he's still looking at her. He waits, for her, deciding, to follow her lead. She takes off like a rocket, catching him off guard. He finally catches up to her, halfway down the next block.

He passes her, and she looks over at him, with pride, and fury, at the same time. She takes it as a challenge.


	8. Never Get That Far

By the time she gets home, that evening, she's ready for bed, even though, it's just after five. She flips on the TV, and waits, patiently, for Ethan to get home from basketball practice. By the time he gets home, half an hour later, she's already asleep. He quietly closes the door, locking it behind him. He sits his gym bag on the floor. He grabs the remote off of the floor. He flips off the TV. He pauses, at the end of the couch, and looks at her, for a moment.

"I'm not asleep," she insists with her eyes closed.

"Just resting your eyes, right?"

She opens her eyes, and sits up. She looks at him. There is an impression of the band of her watch, on her forehead, from where her wrist was resting, as she slept. He balances himself on the arm of the couch.

"I'm hungry," he tells her.

"You're always hungry."

"Are you hungry?" he questions.

"Not really."

"Don't you have a date, tonight?"

"Shit!" she curses, looking at the clock.

"What time are you supposed to meet him?"

"Six thirty," she admits.

"You better hit the shower, you look rough."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiles sweetly.

"I am sure it has nothing to do with the three mile jog I took with you, this morning."

"Exercise is good for you."

"Maybe I'll just reschedule."

"You don't want to scare him off."

"Scare him off?"

"Wait, that's my job."

"I have never brought a man home, to meet you."

"You never bring any of them home," he reminds her.

"I haven't met one who was worth it, yet."

"So you haven't told him about me?"

"I never tell my dates about you."

He sighs, "Because they might be perverts, and want to prey on me."

"Exactly."

"I can fend for myself."

"We're not there yet."

"Maybe he's the one."

"You think?"

"He seems to make you happy."

"He does."

"So are you going to marry him?"

"You have absolutely no tact."

"I never claimed to be. So, are you?"

"I don't know him that well, yet."

"Are you ever going to get married?"

"Do you want me to get married?"

"Who is going to take care of you, when I go to college, and move away?"

She rolls her eyes, "Last time I checked, I was a grown woman, and I could take care of myself."

"I doubt it," he teases.

"I think that I'll manage."

"I am going to Nate's tonight."

"Are you asking, or telling?"

"Telling," he admits.

"Telling?" she inquires.

"You have known him since the day he was born," he reminds her.

"I know."

"He's practically my brother."

"Are you fishing?" Olivia raises her eyebrow.

"No, ma'am. I know he's not my brother. Seriously, though, you should get ready for your date."

"Right," she nods. She vacates her seat. She heads for her room.

"And mom?"

She turns, and looks at him, "Yeah."

"If you bring anyone home, be safe."

She grabs the throw pillow off the end of the couch, and chucks it at his head.

* * *

Nick looks up from his desk, and finds Fin, standing there, next to him.

"You're here late. Your partner went home, hours ago. What are you still doing here?" Fin questions.

"Just doing some research."

"Research?"

"Yeah," he nods, in confirmation.

"How's it going?"

"I've got nothing."

"How far back did you go?"

"I started with five. When I didn't find anything, I expanded the search to ten years ago. I still came up, empty handed."

"This is really bugging you, isn't it?"

"Why would she say something like that?" Nick wonders.

"Maybe she was just yanking her chain."

"I don't know. It's just driving me crazy. I mean you think you know someone, but... do we really ever know anybody?"

"Nah."

"And, she's such a private person."

Fin nods, "You're saying you don't think it's out of the realm of possibility?"

"You have known her a long time. You know her better than I do, what do you think?"

"I think that it's pretty unlikely, that she has a kid, she's not telling us about."

"But?"

"You didn't look far enough," Fin reveals.

"What do you mean?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I went back twenty years."

Nick notices the piece of paper, that Fin is holding on to.

"Twenty? That's a long time. I mean no one is that good, at keeping a secret."

"Then you don't know your partner, that well."

"Are you saying that you found something?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"I don't know if it means anything, but I did find something."

"Hit me with it."

"Sometime in ninety six, she went to a different unit, temporarily."

"And?"

"That was all I could find. There was some information missing in her file."

"Did she take a leave of absence around that time?"

"I couldn't find that information. I just know she went to a different unit."

"Maybe because she just had a kid, and she needed an easier unit, with less hours," Nick suggests.

"Yeah, but less hours means less pay, so she probably didn't stay, for long."


	9. Drop It

"So how old would that make the kid?"

Fin does some quick math in his head, "Born somewhere in late ninety five, or sometime in ninety six? The kid would be sixteen, maybe seventeen."

"There is no way," Nick casts his doubt.

"That is a long time, to keep a secret like that," Fin agrees.

"There is no way," Nick shakes his head.

"But I would do it, if I thought it was the only thing I could do, to protect my kid," Fin admits.

"Why?"

"She would have to have a damn good reason."

"Like what?"

"There was someone she didn't want to know."

Nick exhales, "As far as I can tell, she doesn't want any of us to know."

"Maybe there isn't anything to know. Maybe we're making a mountain, out of a mole hill."

"Fin, roll with me, for a minute."

"Ok," Fin agrees.

"Let's just pretend, that she has been keeping this secret, for sixteen years. Let's just say she does have a kid. If that's true, that slip up, it was intentional. She wants us to know."

"Nah. That's not her style."

"Maybe she doesn't want to tell us, but she wants us to know," Nick suggests.

"I know her. She's not the kind of person who would keep her kid a secret."

"So you don't think she has a kid?"

"I don't know what to think," Fin admits.

"She said something about basketball," Nick recalls.

"Basketball? What about it?"

"She went to a basketball game on Sunday."

"That is a needle in a haystack."

"We'll just double-check high school rosters for her last name."

"Who said that the kid has her last name?"

"It's a starting point," Nick points out.

"If she didn't want us to know about him, why would she give him her last name?"

"A, it's not an entirely uncommon name, like Tutuola. B, maybe the father doesn't know."

"Let me get this straight, you think that Olivia has a secret kid, that she isn't telling us about? Not only that, but she didn't even tell the father? Nick, that's cold."

"I agree."

"She's not that cold."

"We'll find out," Nick announces, as his fingers hit the keys of his keyboard. He begins a search. It takes him less than a minute, to find an article, about Sunday's basketball game. He reads carefully.

"Anything?" Fin inquires.

"Yeah, I got something," he answers, in surprise.

"You probably got nothing. This whole idea is completely ridiculous."

"Just listen."

Fin folds his arms across his chest, "I don't have anywhere to be, so go ahead."

"The Falcon's star forward, junior, Ethan Benson, number fifteen, and team captain, lead the team to a ninety six to forty eight victory, over the Eagle's, on Sunday."

"Is there a picture?"

"No picture. It's just a blurb in the paper."

"Come on, man. Give it a rest. Go home."

"You're telling me to let it go?"

"That's not what I'm saying, exactly."

"What are you saying?"

"Let me handle it."

"Fine," Nick agrees.

* * *

When she gets home, she expects the apartment to be empty. She enters the apartment, alone. She closes, and locks the door, behind her. She moves towards her room, in the dark. She hears the floor creak, from down the hall. She freezes. She reaches for her hip, but quickly realizes that she's in a dress, and her gun isn't there. She doesn't say anything. The light, in the hallway flips on. She finds her son standing there.

"Ethan, I thought you were supposed to be at Nate's."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Why aren't you at Nate's?"

"He's in big trouble."

"With the law?"

"With his parents."

"What did he do, this time?"

"He wrecked his dad's car."

"He doesn't have a driver's license," Olivia recalls.

"And he took his dad's car, without permission. He went joy-riding in the middle of the night."

"Please tell me that you weren't his co-pilot."

"I was at home, in bed, last night, remember? Besides, all the trouble he gets into, is when I'm not around. They should have had another kid. He gets bored, so easily."

"You know, that if you ever, took my car..."

He cuts her off, "I would never take Black Beauty out, without permission. Driving is a privilege, not a right. Not to mention, you love that car, and..."

"I don't love anything as much as I love you. If you got hurt..."

He cuts her off, "I would never do anything like that. I am a good kid."

"I know."

"Why do you always question that? Are you expecting me to go rogue one day, or something?"

"No. I am not naive. Most parents think that they have great kids. I have found that kids are rarely what parents think that they are. I am gone, a lot."

"Mom, I am not one of those kids."

"I want to believe that."

"Then why can't you?"

"There are things even you don't tell me. You could be playing me for a fool, for all I know."

"You raised me better than that."

"I know that."

"I listen, sometimes. I know I am stubborn, and sometimes it takes me more than once, to learn a lesson, but I hear you. I promise you."

"So you're saying that you tell me everything?"

"No. Of course not. You're my mom, that would be..."

"You shouldn't keep secrets from your mother."

"I got a B on my spelling test in the third grade. I never told you. Is that what you want to hear."

"I know. I got a call from the teacher. She asked me if you were alright. I explained to her, that you had been up sick, all night, the night before."

"That is why you are the detective."

"No," she smiles, "That's why I'm the mom."


	10. Tragedy

She's at a crime scene, when her phone rings. She doesn't have to look at the number to know who it is. The ringtone immediately alerts her to who's calling. She pulls the phone from the clip on her belt.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" the voice on the other end wonders.

She steps out of the room, out of earshot of her partner, "I am at a crime scene. Why are you calling me? You should be in class."

"I need you to leave work."

"Why?"

"Something bad happened," he begins.

Panic sets in, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I wasn't there. I am leaving school, I need you to come home."

"Whoa! Stay there, I'll come pick you up."

"Ok."

"Ethan, what happened?"

"Nate..." he begins.

"What about him?"

"He never made it to school. I was worried, so I called his phone. A cop answered, and said that he's dead."

"Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe he let someone borrow his phone."

"That thing was practically growing out of his ear," Ethan points out.

"Maybe someone stole it," she suggests.

"I don't think so."

"When did you call his phone?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

"Sit tight, ok. I am going to call you back," Olivia tells him.

"Ok," he hangs up.

She returns the phone to it's holder. She walks back into the room. She looks at her partner.

"Nick, did you answer this kid's phone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"About twenty minutes ago?"

"Yeah, just before you got here. Why?"

"Was there an I.D. on him?"

"No. And the caller hung up, before he would tell me who the phone belonged to."

"Unbelievable," is all she can manage to say.

"Which part? The fact that someone him in an alley, on a morning where it's below freezing, to bleed out, and die. Or, maybe, the fact that he was raped. It's all unbelievable. They beat him so badly, that I don't think even his parents could identify them."

"They don't need to. I can tell you who it is."

"You know him?" Nick raises an eyebrow.

Olivia squats down, to get a closer look at the body. She pulls on her gloves. She rolls up his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Nick questions.

She doesn't say anything. She points to the tattoo on his shoulder blade. It's a falcon, with a number 12 underneath. She puts the shirt back down, and stands up. She shakes her head.

"What?" Nick questions.

"His name is Nathan Christopher Mason. He's sixteen."

"How do you know him?"

"His mother was a friend of mine, in college. We kept in touch, her name is Kelly Mason."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"What is a sixteen year old doing with a tattoo?"

"He forged his parents signature, on the release form."

"How did you know about it?"

"His mother told me about it, one day, when we were out for lunch. She was furious. She threatened to scrub it off, with a brillo pad."

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt this kid?"

She shrugs, "He was a sweet kid, but he had a wild streak. He never met a rule that he didn't try to break."

"It's a shame."

"Are you ok, here?"

"Slow down. Maybe it's not him. We should collect DNA, before we draw and conclusions."

"Yeah, ok," she agrees.

* * *

Later, he waits at the morgue, for her. She enters the room, with an evidence bag.

"Where did you disappear to?" Nick inquires.

"I was collecting evidence," she answers.

"What do you have?" he wonders.

She holds up the evidence baggy, "I have his sweat band."

"Where did you get that?"

"From his locker," Olivia reveals.

"How?"

"I have connections," she shoots him down.

"So do you have any idea what weapon caused the marks, on his chest?" Nick asks Melinda.

"As far as I can tell, shoes. What could a sixteen year old kid, have done, to make somebody this mad?" she responds.

"I don't know, but I am going to find out," Olivia vows.

* * *

They're in the squad room, going through phone records, and text messages, when Olivia's phone rings.

"Hello?" she answers quickly.

"So?"

"Now isn't a good time," she warns.

"Mom, come on."

"DNA isn't back yet."

"You think that it's him?"

"Yeah."

"And you want to know who would have wanted to kill him?"

"Yeah."

"His parents didn't know, he was freaking out."

"About what?"

"He got a girl pregnant."

"What?!"

"She was the sister of a drug dealer."

"Was he..."

He cuts her off, "Not as far as I knew."

Her call waiting tells her that she's got another call, "I've got to go."

"Ok," he hangs up.


	11. Hard To Hear

She answers the call.

"Benson?"

"The DNA is a match," Melinda reveals.

"Thanks," she hangs up.

She grabs her things, and heads for the door. Before she makes it, she gets a text message. She returns to her desk. She scribbles a name down. She makes her way over to her partner's desk. She hands him the sticky note.

"What's this?" he questions.

"Someone who should be a suspect," she answers.

"Ok, where are you going?"

"Melinda confirmed DNA. The victim is Nate. I'm going to go tell his parents."

"I'll go with you."

She shakes her head, "I know them. I'll go."

"Are you sure."

"I'll tell them, you work on finding who did this to him."

"Ok," he agrees.

* * *

She sits in her car, parked on the street, outside a familiar house, in suburbia. She thinks about all of times she's been to this house. This had been her son's home away from home. Kelly stayed home. When the boys were younger, they were attached at the hip. She takes a deep breath, and gets out of the car. She walks across the street, to the sidewalk. She takes deliberately slow steps, up the walkway, towards the door, in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She stops when she reaches the door. She raises her fist, and knocks. She hears footsteps, inside. It only takes a few seconds, before the door swings open.

A woman, the same age as her, stands on the other side. She's got blonde hair, and brown eyes. Kelly looks at her, in silence.

"Can I come in?" Olivia asks.

Kelly nods, still saying nothing. Olivia closes the door, as she enters the house. Finally Kelly says something.

"Would you like some cookies, they're fresh out of the oven?"

"No," Olivia leads her to the living room.

"Olivia, what are you doing here, in the middle of the day?"

Olivia points to the couch, "Kelly, have a seat."

Kelly slowly lowers herself onto a cushion, of the couch.

"What's going on?"

"Where is Chris?"

"He's at work."

"You should call him. He should come home."

"He's out of town. He's in Indianapolis."

"You should have him come home," Olivia advises.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Did the school call you?"

"Yes. I know Nate didn't go to school, this morning."

"You weren't worried?"

"You know my son. My boy isn't like yours. He doesn't play by the rules. He thinks that he is entitled to do whatever he pleases. Honestly, I don't know where I went wrong with him. I wish that I could say he never skips school, but that would be a lie. He plays hooky, more frequently than I would like. There is some girl that he hangs out with, I think."

"Do you know her name?"

"Sierra. What is this about? Olivia, why are you here?"

"We found Nate, this morning."

"We, who? You, and Ethan?"

"NYPD."

"He's in jail? What did he do?"

"No, he's not in jail."

"What happened?"

"Kelly, we found Nate in an alley."

"He's hurt? He's in the hospital? Which one, I'll..." she begins to panic.

"No. Kelly, he's not a the hospital."

"Where is he?"

"He's in the morgue. Kelly, he's dead."

"What? No. It can't be him. You've made a mistake. Not my son."

"I recognized his tattoo."

"His tattoo? You didn't recognize him?"

"Nate was brutalized. I'll spare you the details."

"Maybe it's not him."

"We found his phone, in his pocket."

"Maybe someone stole it," she hopes.

"Ethan took one of Nate's sweat bands out of his gym locker. DNA confirmed that it's Nate."

"No, you're wrong," she begins to break down.

Olivia hugs her, "I'm so sorry."

"Where is Ethan? Is he ok?"

"He's at home, he's fine."

"I haven't seen much of him, lately. He was supposed to be here, last night, but Nate called, and cancelled."

"I am so sorry."

"Does Ethan know who did this to my son?"

"He said he might know. We're tracking down that lead, now."

"How am I going to tell Chris?"

"Call him, and tell him to come home. Don't tell him over the phone."

"We tried for such a long time, to have Nate."

"I know."

"He was our miracle baby. After we had him, we tried for years, to have another baby, and we couldn't. He was our only child. What am I supposed to do? My son is dead. How am I supposed to..." she trails off.

"I promise, I am going to find, whoever did this to him, ok?"

"I know that you will."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No. I'll be ok."

"You're going to have to come to the precinct and answer some questions," Olivia adds.

"Of course," she nods, "Let me call Chris, and then I'll meet you there."

"Why don't I drive you? You shouldn't really be alone, right now."

"Ok," she agrees.


	12. Confrontation

Cragen comes out of his office. He looks at Nick.

"Where is your partner?"

"She went to notify the family."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

"She asked me to track down a lead."

"Did you get anywhere on the phone, that called the victim, after he was dead?"

"No, not really."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a burn phone."

"Unregistered?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"The name it is registered under is, My Phone. The address is 123 Sesame Street."

"Can we track it?"

"No need," A voice tells them.

They look up, at the young man, who stands in front of them.

"Can I help you?" Nick questions.

"I can help you, I hope. I am here about Nate Mason."

"Have a seat," Nick points to the chair, at the end of his desk.

Cragen returns to his office.

"I called Nate. He didn't make it to school, this morning, and so I called him."

"I answered. My name is Nick Amaro."

"Ethan," he reveals.

"So, Ethan, what can you tell me about Nate?"

"We were best friends. We have been friends, since day one."

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your friend?"

"Samuel Grant. Nate got his sister pregnant."

"That usually doesn't make someone mad enough to kill."

"Samuel is a drug dealer."

"I have been looking into his background."

"So he is a person of interest?"

"Ethan, do you have a last name?"

"Look, all I know, is that somebody murdered my best friend. I didn't do it. If you have anymore questions you can call me. You have my number," he gets up, from the seat he's in.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Olivia returns to the precinct. Nick looks at her, questioningly.

"I thought you were going to bring Mrs. Mason back, with you."

"So did I," she admits.

"Where is she?"

"She wanted to wait to come down, until her husband gets home."

"Where is he?"

"Indianapolis."

"So you just left her?"

"She called her sister. I didn't leave, until she got there."

"She didn't know that her son got this girl pregnant?"

"No. Did you have any luck finding her?"

"No. She wasn't at school today, either. In fact, she hasn't been in school, for months."

"She dropped out?"

"She opted to do home-schooling."

"Because she's pregnant?"

"None of her teachers knew that. They assumed it was because her other brother, Charley, was murdered, in a turf war, several months ago. She quit school, shortly after that. Her other brother, Sam is her guardian. They just thought he was trying to protect her."

"We've got to find that girl."

"I had an interesting visitor, today."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Nate's friend, Ethan."

"Oh?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why would a sixteen year old register his phone under the name, My Phone?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Sounds to me, like he has something to hide."

"Sounds to me, like you're reading too much into the behavior of a sixteen year old."

"Olivia, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"Your involvement in this case."

"What do you mean?"

"You know the parent's of the victim. Maybe you should step back."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because when we get to trial, I don't want you to perjure yourself, and blow our case."

"Whoa! What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"If you have something to say, say it!"

He gets up from his desk. He grabs her by the arm, and leads her into the conference room. She slams the door, behind them. Her face is red. She stares at him, in anger.

"What the hell is your problem?" she questions, in anger.

"You're not being straight forward with me."

"Just stop," she insists.

"I am your partner. Tell me what's going on," he demands.

"Nothing is going on," she argues.

"So, you're not going to come clean? I am giving you the opportunity, and you're choosing not to take it?"

"An opportunity to come clean, about what?"

"I did some research. You went to a different unit, for a while in ninety-six."

"Last time I checked, going to a different unit was not a crime."

"You transferred to a different unit, for months."

"Why are you investigating me? You should be investigating this murder."

"This was before this kid turned up dead," he reveals.

"Nick, you have no business digging into my personal life."

"You really have the audacity to say that to me?"

"Nick, drop it," she growls.

"Lower your voice," he warns.

"Or what?"

"I don't want the entire department to hear you," he admits.

"Why not?"

"The Falcons won, on Sunday night. Ethan Benson, number fifteen lead them to victory. That is not a coincidence. He is sixteen years old. His jersey number is fifteen. That is the last two digits of your badge number. I saw the kid, today, with my own eyes. Are you really going to sit there, and tell me that he isn't your son?"


	13. Denial

"What do you want me to say?" She asks in a quieter tone.

"The truth. Olivia, I just want the truth."

"The truth is, there is a teenaged girl out there, who is pregnant, and scared, because more than likely, her brother had her boyfriend killed. We need to focus on that. I don't have time for your bullshit."

"You're wasting time, by avoiding the question."

"Nick, my life is not any of your business."

"Olivia, I am your partner," he grits his teeth, "How am I supposed to protect you, if I don't know the truth?"

"I don't want to be a liability. I don't want anyone to have to lie for me, ever."

"What does that mean?"

"The less you know, the better."

He shakes his head, "We are way beyond that, now. Ok? Look, I am not out to reveal your secrets to the world. I just want you to tell me the truth."

"The truth?"

He nods, "Yeah. Tell me that kid, who, aside from his eyes, pretty much, looks exactly like you, isn't yours. Can you really stand here, and deny your own child?"

Her heart sinks, "No."

"So..."

"Can we move on, please? We need to find Sierra, before anything happens to her."

"Ok," he concedes.

They leave the room. He makes a beeline for his desk. He grabs a paper off it.

"You ready to go pick up Samuel Grant?"

"Let's go," she nods.

* * *

They leave the precinct, and head to a seedy apartment complex. They climb several flights of stairs. They stop when they reach the fourth floor. Nick pounds on the door. They wait, with their hands on their weapons, ready to un-holster at any moment. Olivia expects to hear movement, as their suspect flees through the window. Instead, the footsteps come towards her. He pulls open the door. They flash their badges.

"You're here about Nate?" he opens with.

"I'm detective Benson, this is detective Amaro. We would like to ask you a few questions."

"I've got nothing to hide, come in," he steps aside, and allows them to come into his apartment.

Nick closes the door, once they enter the apartment.

"Where is your sister?" Olivia questions.

"She went to the store a couple of hours ago, for milk. I haven't seen her since," he admits.

"Are you getting worried?" Nick questions.

"My sister is kind of a flake. Sometimes she just wanders around," he insists.

"Look, Samuel, you're looking pretty good, for this murder," Nick admits.

"Based on what? My two prior convictions, when I was a minor? Look, I haven't been slinging, for a long time," he tells them.

Olivia clenches her jaw, "Based on the fact that you didn't like Nate. He got your sister pregnant."

"I know. My sister is fifteen years old. She was going to make something of herself, and now she's going to have a kid. She is just a kid, so yeah, I was pissed, but I didn't kill Nate. I didn't like him, and that is no secret. I swear, I didn't kill him. He vowed that he would take care of her."

Nick furrows his brow, "And you took the word of a scared sixteen year old, kid?"

"No, but I was going to give him a chance. Look, I was barely eighteen, when my parents died. I wasn't doing anything, with my life. I had two kids I had to take care of. Charley was ten, and Sierra was seven. Look, I have been on the straight, and narrow. I turned my life around. I was mad that Sierra was throwing her life away, but I wouldn't kill Nate. He was just a stupid kid."

"You didn't want your sister to have to throw her life away, the way that you did?" Nick follows up.

"The only reason that I'm not dead, or in jail, is because of those kids," Sam insists.

"That's funny, Charley is dead. You didn't do a very good job of keeping him safe," Olivia glares at him.

"That was an accident. This is a bad neighborhood. I do the best that I can. Charley was an innocent victim. He was crossing the street, when they started shooting. He was clean. He didn't have any drugs on him. He knew better. He was a good student. He was going places, too."

"Are you willing to volunteer a DNA sample?" Nick questions.

"I'm innocent, swab away."

Olivia pulls a swab, out of her pocket. She swabs Sam's mouth.

"Don't leave town," Nick warns.

"I know the drill," he replies.

* * *

They leave the apartment. They both remain silent, until they reach the car. She heads for the driver's seat. He slams the door, as he climbs in.

"You buy that story?" he asks his partner.

"Not for a minute. I saw his arrest record," Olivia answers.

"How is it that not a single one of those charges stuck? He's been arrested ten times in the last eight years. Who does he have in his pocket?"

"By the looks of his apartment, nobody."

"We need to do some more digging on him," Nick comments.

"My gut is telling me that he did it," Olivia admits.

"Mine too. He knows that we aren't going to find his DNA, because he's smart. He didn't leave any."

"Maybe we can connect some of his known associates to the crime."

"Let's hope. In the mean time we'll let other precincts that we're looking for the sister. Liv, you think that she's still alive?"

Olivia shrugs, "I hope so."

* * *

When they get back to the precinct they are able to get a warrant for Samuel Grant's financials. They have papers all over their desks. Nick looks up, at his partner. Her hair is pulled back in a pony tail. She leans forward, over the desk, reading, intently.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?" she looks up, at him.

"If you had a million dollar pad, in an upscale neighborhood, why would you be in that rat hole that we found Samuel at?"

"What?"

"He is the owner of a million dollar pad."

"You have one place to call home, and one to do business in."

"Exactly."

"I found nothing out of the ordinary, in his local bank account."

"But?"

"I found offshore accounts. No drug dealer I know, has this kind of money."

"You know none of his arrests, in the last five years are for anything drug related. He's got carrying a concealed weapon, without a permit. There is an arrest for a domestic dispute."

"Maybe he was telling us the truth. Maybe he isn't dealing, anymore," she suggests, "He has a day job."

"He makes twenty six thousand a year, as a janitor. That does not buy you a million dollar home."

"If you suddenly had the responsibility of two younger siblings, and you wanted to send them to college, for a better life, you would use your skills."

"What are you thinking?"

"Murder for hire. All of the transactions I found in the offshore accounts were for a minimum of twenty thousand. Almost all of the transactions were for more than that."


	14. Lost and Found

It's well after eight o'clock, in the evening, when her cell phone rings.

"Benson," she answers.

"You need to come down to the morgue," Melinda tells her.

"We're on our way," she hangs up.

She pushes her chair away from her desk. She motions for her partner, "Come on."

"What's up?" he slides his chair out, too.

"Warner's got something for us."

* * *

They find Melinda in autopsy, with another body. The body she has, has a sheet over it. They enter the room.

"I think I found Sierra," she pulls back the sheet.

Olivia looks at the face of the fifteen year old. There is not a mark on it.

"That's her," Olivia agrees.

"A homeless man found her. He called nine one one."

"It was too late?"

"No, they took her to Bellvue. After half an hour there, she flat-lined, and they couldn't get her back."

"What happened?"

Melinda pulls the sheet down, further, "I think that it's safe to say she bled out," Melinda points to the abdomen.

"The baby?"

"Whoever did this cut the baby out of her."

"With what?"

"From the wound pattern, probably a box cutter."

* * *

By midnight they have pinned at least eight murders on Samuel Grant. Two hours later they are both exhausted, and ready to go home, when Warner calls them again.

"Benson," Olivia answers, half-asleep.

"The SOB must have cut himself, when he was cutting her. I matched blood on the victim, to Samuel Grant."

"We'll get a warrant."

"Did the baby turn up?"

"We have word out, at all of the hospitals. If he killed his sister, he probably killed the baby, too."

"I don't know."

"Think about it, Melinda. If she made it to the hospital, still pregnant, they would have tried to save the baby. Do we even know if the fetus was viable?"

"It was, I estimated gestation at thirty six weeks. And it wasn't _a _fetus."

"What do you mean?"

"Sierra was having fraternal twins. A boy, and a girl."

"We'll keep looking," she hangs up.

She looks over at her partner, "That was Warner."

"More bad news?"

"Sierra was thirty six weeks pregnant."

"So the baby was viable?"

"Babies."

"Babies?"

"Twins. A boy, and a girl."

"That's a shame."

"Those babies are probably in the Hudson."

He shakes his head, "Or somebody's garbage."

"We need to pick this guy up."

"It's after two, the ADA isn't going to appreciate a wake up call, at this time of night. We'll wait a few hours, and call. In the mean time, you should go home."

"I'm fine."

"Go home."

"I can't. I made a promise."

"Ok."

The phone at Nick's desk rings, "Amaro. Yes, we are. You do? Ok, we'll be right there," he hangs up. He looks over at her, with a smile.

"What?"

"A night shift nurse, at Mercy general went out for a smoke break. She heard crying. She found the babies in a box, near the trash."

"Let's go."

* * *

By seven am they have ensured that the baby's are safe, and healthy. They have been granted their arrest warrant, and they have the suspect in custody. He, and Olivia stand outside the interview room.

"Olivia, go home. Fin just got here, he can help me sweat him."

"I can't go home. I still have something I need to do."

"What? I told you, we've got this."

"I have to let Kelly know, we have this prick, in custody."

"Then, you'll go home?"

"I promise."

* * *

Kelly finds Olivia sitting in the waiting room, at Mercy General. She looks as exhausted as Olivia' feels. Her husband comes in, behind her. They look at her, tired, angry, and confused. Kelly says nothing, on the verge of tears. Christopher speaks up.

"Olivia, why did you want us to meet you here?"

"First things first, we caught the guy who murdered Nate. We also have his accomplices in custody."

"Why are we here?" Kelly asks.

She smiles, "Come with me."

She leads them to the elevator. They ride, to another floor. They get off. They follow her, to the nursery. She stops, at the window.

"Why did you bring us here?" Chris asks.

"Last night, we found Sierra, the girl your son was seeing. She's dead."

"That is awful," Kelly admits.

"Her brother killed her. I don't understand how he could kill her. I guess that he thought they were innocent. Instead of killing them, he cut them out of her."

Chris furrows his brow, "What are you talking about?"

"Sierra was pregnant, with a little boy, and a little girl. Your son was too afraid to tell you. We confirmed with DNA, they were his."

Kelly swallows hard, "That's why he was killed? He got Sierra pregnant, so, her brother killed him?"

Olivia points into the window, "Yes, but for some reason he couldn't kill those babies."

They peer in the window, at the two basinets, that sit side, by side. One blue card, and one pink card, at the ends of the basinets. "Those two sweet, innocent babies, belonged to Nathan, and Sierra. They died, trying to protect them."

"So, what happens to them, now?"

"You are their only living relatives," Olivia reveals.


	15. Sixteen

When she gets home, she finds her son is still asleep, on the couch. She takes a seat, on the arm of the couch, even though she's exhausted, and she just wants to crawl into bed. Without a second thought she reaches down, and kisses him, on the forehead. His eyes fly open.

"What time is it?"

"Almost eight, in the morning."

"Should I have gone to school?"

"No, it's ok."

"Did you get him?"

"Yeah."

He sits up. He stretches, and then stands up. She vacates her seat, at the end of the couch. She wraps her arms around him. He hugs her back.

"Ethan, I am so sorry about Nate."

"Me too."

"I love you, more than anything."

"I know."

"I would die if anything ever happened to you."

"I love you too."

She lets go of him, "And, I don't tell you enough, how proud I am of you. I am really proud of the man that you are becoming."

"It's all because of you, even if you don't believe that."

"How can I? I spent most of your childhood, not around."

"You were always there, when it mattered."

"This whole thing, just makes me realize how precious time is."

"You look exhausted. Get some sleep. We can talk about this later."

She shakes her head, "No. Ethan, I'm sorry that I couldn't always be there, when you needed me."

"Mom, stop feeling guilty."

"I don't know how to."

"I'm tired. I didn't get to sleep, until about an hour ago. I couldn't go to sleep."

"I know."

"I just lost my best friend."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. I just want to get some rest."

"Ok," she concedes.

* * *

She wakes up around twelve thirty. Ethan is sound asleep, in his room. She leaves him a note on the fridge, and makes her way to the precinct. When she gets to the squad room, everyone is busy working. No one notices her. She makes a bee line for the captain's office. She knocks on the door, and lets herself in. She closes the door, behind her.

"Olivia, you should be at home, sleeping. You had a rough case."

"I needed to talk to you."

"Ok."

"I need some time off."

"Ok. How much?"

"Just a week."

"You didn't have to come all the way down here, for that."

"That isn't why I came down here."

"What's going on?"

"I am not very good at letting people in."

"I know."

"I have made a lot of mistakes, especially lately."

"What are you talking about?"

"These past couple of cases, have reminded me, that some things are too sacred to take for granted. And, I have also been reminded that honesty is the best policy."

"Liv? What are you talking about?"

"I've been feeling guilty, a lot lately. My guilt grows, as each day passes, and I don't say anything."

"Say anything, about what?"

"Something I should have said, a long time ago. I really screwed up."

"Olivia, you're worrying me, what's going on? Whatever it is, just spit it out."

"I have to tell you something."

"Ok."

"For the past sixteen years, I have been lying to everyone. Sometimes I lie to myself. Sometimes I can almost convince myself that it's ok. I try to believe that the end justifies the means. But, I have recently come to realize, that in the end everyone ends up hurt. I never wanted that. I was just trying to do, what I thought was right."

"Right, for who?"

"I realize, that I was doing what was easiest, for me, not what was best for anyone else."

"Olivia, what in the world is going on, here?"

She pulls a picture, out of her pocket. She hands it to him. He studies it, closely. It's the young man, he saw in the precinct, the day, before. He's wearing his basketball uniform. He smiles widely. His blue eyes light up the picture, they are complimented by his dark blue jersey.

"The victim's best friend? What about him?"

"Nick said no kid registers their phone, as My Phone, unless their hiding something, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Unless, maybe, you're the kid of a cop."

"And you're guilty of something?"

She shakes her head, "He's not guilty of anything, but being too smart for his own good."

"I don't understand. Why are you bringing him up? What does this have to do with what you need to tell me?"

She swallows hard, "Ethan is sixteen."

He is silent. She allows a moment to pass, for this thought to sink in.

"Sixteen?" he finally responds.

"I was trying to protect him. Now, I am not sure what I was protecting him from. You can't protect someone from the entire world. You can't protect someone, from ever getting hurt," she tells him, on the verge of tears.

"Olivia, what are you telling me?"

"I have a son."

He doesn't say anything.

She points to the picture, "That is my son."


	16. Trust

"You have a sixteen year old son? Please tell me you're just now telling me this, because you adopted him, when he was fifteen, and you were just waiting for the ink to dry, before you told me."

"No."

"You have a sixteen year old son?" he repeats.

"Yes," she confirms.

"Who you gave birth to?"

"All nine pounds and eight ounces of him," she reveals.

"Why are you telling me this, now?"

"Because that could have been my son."

"What do you mean?"

"Nate Mason's mother, and I went to college together. I hadn't heard from her, in years, until I bumped into her, at my OB office, when I was pregnant, with Ethan. We kept in touch. Nate was a month older than Ethan. They were best friends. The night that Nate was murdered, Ethan was supposed to go to his house. He called at the last minute, and cancelled. What if he hadn't? What if Ethan had gone with him? What if I had showed up at that crime scene, and instead of just finding my son's best friend dead, I found my son, too? I couldn't live with myself," she tells him, on the verge of tears.

"Olivia, I had no idea."

The tears begin to fall, "How would you? I never told anyone."

"Why not?"

"I thought that I was trying to protect him, but I honestly don't know, anymore."

"I don't know what to say."

"I was stupid. I have the most amazing, sweet, smart, kid, and I never told a soul. I should have shared him with the world, and I didn't. I am a terrible person. I have been at this precinct, for..."

He cuts her off, "I don't think that you're a terrible person. I am just disappointed that you didn't trust me enough, to tell me."

"I'm sorry."

"Olivia, you should go home. Go home to your son."

* * *

She nods, in agreement. She slips out of his office, and makes a beeline to the elevator. When she gets home, she finds Ethan sitting on the couch, flipping through a photo album. She takes a seat, on the couch, next to him. He stares at the picture, in silence.

"What are you looking at?"

"I never realized how creepy you truly are," he answers.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How many parents take pictures of their kids, when they're sleeping?"

She smiles, looking at the picture. Ethan, and Nate are asleep, on the floor, under a blanket fort. They're three. Ethan wears blue footy pajamas. Ethan's dark curls rest on his pillow. Nate wears a pair of shorts, no shirt, and a cape.

"I took that, to prove to Kelly, that Nate could be quiet, and behave himself."

"He was asleep,"

"Exactly."

"He was a tornado," Ethan admits.

"You two were opposites, that's for sure."

"You remember the car ride, to Hershey Park?"

"He did not stop talking until we were halfway there," she recalls.

"And, then, he sang the entire rest of the way."

"At least he had a good voice," she points out.

"You know, the dude even talked in his sleep."

"I am not surprised."

"I already miss him, so much."

"I know."

"You know, when you went undercover, I was nine, or ten, and I remember staying at his house. He would want to stay up, all night. He never shut up, that was one of his flaws. I eventually left the room, and ended up on the couch."

"Imagine that."

"Why is it that I would rather sleep on the couch?"

"When you were a baby, I would get home late, and you were usually asleep. I hadn't seen you, all day, so I would go into your room, and scoop you out of your crib. I would go into the living room, to the couch. I would lay you against the back of the couch, so you wouldn't roll away. I was always afraid if I put you in bed with me, you would roll off. I would lay there, with you, sandwiched, between me, and the back of the couch, until I fell asleep. I just missed you. When I got home, I didn't want to spend another minute away from you."

"I know I don't say it," he pauses, "ever, but I am a lucky kid. I am lucky to have you."

"I made so many mistakes. I spent too much time away from you."

"No, you just let me be a kid. I was happy. Kelly, she wanted Nate to be perfect. She wanted to micromanage everything he did, for as far back as I can remember. If he got a B she would wonder why he didn't get an A. She put so much pressure on him, to be perfect, that he just stopped caring. You always told me to give things an honest effort, because you get out of life, what you put into it."

"Nate was a rebel. He was born that way, I think. I am so thankful, that you're my son. I would have beat that kid. I never had to get on you, to do your homework. I never had to remind you about your manners."

"That's the best thing you ever did as a parent," he tells her.

"What's that?"

"You just let me be myself."

"Which, I did regret, on occasion."

"When?"

"When you showed up to your kindergarten Christmas pageant, with a burgundy dress shirt, and a pair of Batman socks."

"No one knew, but you."

She smiles, "Ethan, everyone knew. You showed them to everyone, remember?"

"What was wrong with my socks?"

"They did not match your outfit."

"I was five, it was ok."

"I didn't care that they didn't match your outfit. Ethan, they didn't match each other. They were two different socks."

"That's not how I remember it. I just remember being the most awesome kid there. Everyone else had black socks on, and I got to wear Batman. I remember all the other kids were so jealous."

"I was embarrassed, but I learned to pick my battles. You were safe, and you were happy, so that is all that really mattered."

"I need to ask you a serious question. Actually, I need to ask you two serious questions."

"Ok," she nods.

"One, would you murder me, if I got a tattoo?" He expects for her nostrils to flare, and her face to turn red, in anger.

"You can do whatever you want, when you are eighteen. Beyond that, I would like to remind you, it is much more difficult to remove on, than to get one. I also want you to remember, that it's life long, so, it should be something tasteful. It should be something that you can live with, for the rest of your life."

"That went better than I expected," he admits.

"What is your other question?"

"What would you say, if I got a girl pregnant?"

She swallows hard, "Ethan, I would rather you tell me the truth, than lie to me. I don't care what it is. There is nothing, in this world, that you could do, that would make me love you any less."

"Good to know. I didn't get anyone pregnant, by the way. I am not trying to give you a heart attack."

"I know you better than that," she reminds him.


	17. When The Truth Would Do Better

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"I changed my mind," he admits.

"About what?"

"I want to know who he is. I want to meet him."

"Ethan, I know I told you that you should know..."

"But now you've changed your mind? Unbelievable."

"I don't think that it's a good idea," she insists.

"Why don't you just tell me who he is, and let me decide that, for myself."

"Because it isn't that simple."

"Why? Who is he?"

"I..." she struggles to formulate an answer.

"Why can't you even talk about it?"

"You don't need to know all of the details."

"It's my life. I think that I deserve to know."

"I agree."

"Then what is the problem?"

"I don't think that you're ready."

"Why not? Is this your way of trying to protect me from some horrible truth? Is the guy a rapist, or something?"

"He's not a rapist," she reassures him.

"Then why can't you tell me?"

"He doesn't know," she admits.

"What do you mean, he doesn't know?"

"Ethan, I would love to tell you some romantic story, about him being the love of my life. I wish I could tell you that we were together, for a long time, and that he was the one."

"But?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why is it that you hesitate to tell me the truth, when you have always insisted that I tell the truth?"

"Because I don't ever want you to doubt, for a single second that I wanted you."

"I don't. I have never doubted that."

"Why didn't he want me?"

"I never told him about you."

"Don't you think that he should have been the one deciding whether he wanted to be part of my life, or not?"

"No."

"Don't you think I should get that choice?"

"I did what I thought was best for you."

"Stop trying to protect me. Mom, you can't protect me from the whole world. Just stop!"

"Ethan I will tell you, I promise you that."

"But? It is not going to be now, ok."

"How long are you going to wait? Until you're on your death bed?"

"No."

"What are you trying to protect me from?"

"The truth."

"Why? Was he the scum of the earth? Is he doing life for murder?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

His nostrils flare, and his face turns red, "I do."

"Even when I tell you, I don't think that it is going to offer the closure that you're looking for. You are always going to have more questions, than answers."

"I just want to know."

"He isn't who you think that he is."

"How do you know who I think it is?"

"Because you're my kid, and I know you. I know that you're hurt, and you're angry, and you want someone to blame. If you want to blame me, go ahead. I have made a lot of mistakes."

"I am never going to get my best friend back, but I should at least have the option of knowing my father."

"I agree."

"Unless, he was just a sperm donor," he probes.

She smiles, "Yes, that's why I don't want to tell you. I decided, that at twenty nine, it would be a good idea, to have a baby, as a single parent. I thought you, know it's now or never, so what, I am a cop, and I may get killed in the line of duty, I'll just go ahead with it, anyway."

He shakes his head, "So, that's a no?"

"It wasn't exactly a fairy tale."

"You're dashing my dreams," he jokes.

"You're my happy ending."

"Obviously you're not going to tell me, now."

"Nope."

"You want to go to the gym with me, and shoot some hoops?"

"If you let me win."

"Everything I learned, about basketball, I learned from..." he pauses, "you. Everything I learned about football, I learned from my coach."

"Fair enough."

"So, is that a yes?"

"We might as well. It's better than sitting on the couch all day."

"No cheating."

"I never cheat."

* * *

She heads to her room, to change her clothes. A few minutes later, she comes out in a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt. Her hair is pulled back, into a pony tale. She finds that Ethan is still on the couch. He's lying there, with his eyes closed. He's passed out on the couch, in the amount of time it's taken her to get ready.

Knowing that neither of them have gotten much sleep over the past few days, she sighs in relief. She takes her pony tail down, and retreats to her room. Instead of climbing right into her bed, she heads over to the closet. She climbs into the back of the closet. She moves a box that has tax records. Then another box, with Ethan's important school papers. The third box she comes to has birth certificates, and other important documents in it. Finally she reaches the box that she's looking for, that is way back in the closet. It's only a shoe box. She sits on the floor of her closet, with the box. She sits with her legs crossed. She places it on her lap, and removes the lid.


	18. Protection

She sits on the floor, in her pajamas, staring at the picture. She runs her fingers through her hair. She shakes her head, seriously contemplating what to do. She stares at the grainy picture, of the back of a man's head. She places it back in the box. She puts the lid back on the box, and shoves it back into the closet. She pushes herself off the floor, and quietly tiptoes to the door. She pulls her door open, and steps into the living room. She stops at the back of the couch.

Ethan is still sound asleep. Her hands rest on the back of the couch. She looks down at the teenager, as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful. Her angel. The secret she didn't like to share, for more reasons than one. He had a right to know the truth. She never had a hard time telling the truth, except about him, and about his father.

She watches him sleep, knowing that her biggest regrets in life, are not telling the world about him, and not telling him, about his father. Her natural instinct, from the time she knew he existed, was to protect him. Maybe it is the cop in her, maybe it is a survival skill. She knows how to love him, and teach him, right from wrong. She's learning, that the older he gets, the harder it is to protect him.

He is a sweet, kind, gentle soul. He looks tough, outwardly. He's tall, and he's got muscles that a professional body builder would envy. He is athletic, and smart, and charming. He has so many good qualities. But, she knows how sensitive he is. Even from the time he was very small, he would get his heart broken so easily. Maybe it is her fault, she is over protective.

Maybe she should just tell him the truth. He's almost an adult. On the same token, he would always be her baby. He would probably be devastated, if he ever knew the truth. She feels guilty, that he's never known his father. She feels guilty that his father never knew about him. She takes a deep breath, and exhales.

She taps him on the shoulder. "Ethan," she whispers. His eyes open, and he looks at her. He doesn't say anything.

"It's late, go to bed," she insists.

"I would rather sleep here. Night mom."

"Good night," instead of retreating, she doesn't move.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she nods, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because, you're just standing there, like a deer caught in the headlights."

"I'm just tired," she lies.

"Then go to bed."

"Okay," she finally retreats.

When he wakes up, the next morning, she's sound asleep. He gets into the fridge, and starts making breakfast. He tries his best to be quiet. Within five minutes, she comes out of her room, into the kitchen. She looks at him, in frustration.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's ok. I didn't need to sleep all day."

He looks at the time, that is set, on the oven.

"All day? It's a quarter till seven."

"What are you making?"

"Eggs. You should go back to bed, you look tired."

"I'm fine," she lies.

"You couldn't sleep?" he guesses.

"I had a lot on my mind."

"A case?"

"Sort of."

"Are you ok?" he questions.

"I think I am going to go for a run, and clear my head," she admits.

"You hate running," he reminds her.

"I can still school you."

"You wish," he rolls his eyes, as she leaves the room, to change into her running clothes.

A few minutes later, she's sitting on the couch, lacing up her shoes. He sits on a stool, near the counter, eating his breakfast. She looks over at him, and it's all she can do, to keep from breaking down.

"Ethan, I can't do this anymore."

"Run? You are getting old," he remains focused on the food on his plate.

"No, that isn't what I meant."

He turns around, and looks at her, picking up on the tone of her voice.

"What did you mean?"

"Your entire life, I've been preaching to you that you shouldn't lie, you shouldn't keep secrets. And, for your entire life, I have been keeping a secret. It's not fair to you. I am so sorry," she pauses, clenching her jaw, to stave off tears. "You are right, you deserve to know. It's your right to know. I want to tell you, I am just not sure that you're ready to hear the truth."

"You can't protect me, from everything," he reminds her.

"I don't think I should tell you who it is..."

"What?" he looks at her, in complete, and utter confusion.

"I don't think I should tell you, yet," she clarifies.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Just listen," she begs.

"Ok," he nods.

"I want to be able to tell you, that I was madly in love with your father, and that we were together for a long time, but it just didn't work out. I can't do that."

"I know, you told me that, already. Just get to the truth."

"I don't know if I was in love with him. I wasn't with him very long. It is complicated."

"He was a one night stand?" Ethan guesses.

She shrugs, "Not exactly."

"Why is it such a big secret? Did he rape you?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Then why does it matter? Is he incarcerated? Is he a criminal, or a sleeze bag?"

"No."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"I never told him about you," she begins.

"I know that."

"I never told him, because I didn't want things to get complicated. I knew from the second that I found out about you, that I wanted you. I knew the kind of life I wanted you to have. I was wrong, to think that you were better off, being raised, by a single parent. I don't know what kind of a parent he could have been to you, if he knew. I don't know what your life would have been like. I was trying to protect you, I was trying to protect him."

"Protect him, from what?" he raises an eyebrow.


	19. All Wrong

She chokes, unable to find the words to tell him the truth.

"Why would you have to protect him? Protect him, from what?"

"I was protecting him, as much as I was protecting myself."

"From what?"

"He's a fellow cop," she reveals.

He furrows his brow. "So? I don't understand. Why would it matter? Was he your partner, or something, at the time?"

"We worked an undercover operation, for over a month, together."

"I still don't understand."

"And, he was married."

"Oh."

"I made choices, that..."

He fills in the blanks, for her, "You regret?"

"I don't regret you, for a minute."

"You wouldn't go back and change things?"

"If I did, you wouldn't be here. I did not make good choices. I made choices, that I am not entirely proud of. I know that this is difficult to understand."

"So did you ever see him, again?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell him, then?"

"Because, I didn't know how to. A lot of time had passed. I couldn't do that to you, it wasn't fair."

"Don't you think he had a right to know?"

"Absolutely."

"I had a right to know him."

"I agree."

"Is he still alive?"

She doesn't say anything.

"He's a cop. Did he get shot in the line of duty, or something?"

"I can't..."

He nods, "You are _the_ most frustrating human being that I have ever met, in my entire life."

"If I weren't, I wouldn't be your mother."

"Touché."

"Eat your breakfast, I'm going to go for a run."

"One more thing, before you go," he insists, as she gets off the couch.

"Yes, my dear boy," she groans.

"Is it Elliot?"

She doesn't answer him, she just walks out the door. He watches, as she closes the door, behind her. He shakes his head, and stares at his half-eaten, half-cold eggs.

"I don't know if that's a yes, or a no," he mutters, to himself.

* * *

She makes it back to work, a few days later. She is the first one in the squad room, that morning. She looks at the items on her desk. Ink pens, file folders, and a calendar. She glances at the pictures. It hits her, that that most important one is missing. She opens her purse, and pulls out a picture frame, with a picture in it. It's a four by six print. In the picture, she's in the park. She can remember it, as if, it's yesterday.

She's at the bottom of the slide, waiting on the clumsy two and a half year old. When he makes it to the bottom, for the first time, on his own, Olivia's mother is there to snap a picture of the moment. He reaches the bottom, and Olivia is squatting, in front of the slide, waiting on him. His dark curls move, in the wind. He gives her a kiss. Neither one of them make eye contact with the camera.

She puts it front, and center. She puts her purse in the bottom drawer, and sits back, waiting for the rest of her team to join her. Within an hour, she's at a crime scene, and back to the real world. They spend hours at the crime scene. After a brief trip back to the squad room, they make their way out of the building, to track down leads.

* * *

She's in the driver's seat, when her partner looks over at her. They're on their way back to the precinct, after several hours of following down leads. The radio is background noise. He turns the volume down. She doesn't take her eyes off the road.

"I get why you didn't tell me. We haven't been partners, that long. I know you're a private person. I understand that. What I don't understand, is why you never told anyone else? I mean how long have you been at SVU?"

"A long time, far longer than I care to keep track of," she replies.

"You've worked with Cragen, and Munch, and Fin, well over a decade. You were partners, with Elliot, for twelve years. You never once mentioned that you have a kid, to any of them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't matter," she insists.

"Yeah, it does. Fin has a kid, we know that. John has been married more times, than anyone person should. The Captain, is a recovering alcoholic. Every single member of our squad has baggage. And, they're all upfront about it. Why aren't you?"

"I am not like everyone else. I never have been. My personal life, is personal."

"What about this guy that you've been seeing? Did you tell him?"

"No."

"You're involved with someone, and you don't tell them?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Why not?"

"I would never tell anyone, unless I was planning on marrying them."

"What about the guy that you were engaged to?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't ready to."

"You know, an outsider, looking in, might say that you're ashamed of your son."

Her face turns red, "I'm not."

"I struck a nerve, didn't I?"

"I am not going to have this conversation with you," she warns him.

"Then why is he a secret? How have you kept him a secret, for so long? He's sixteen years old."

"I just want to protect him."

"From what? Olivia, you can't protect him from the entire world. You cannot protect him from ever getting hurt."

"I know that, but I am still going to try."

"In sixteen years, you never once mentioned him, to friends, or co-workers. Olivia, that seems pretty cold."

"You don't understand."

"Were you raped? Is that it? You were trying to protect him from the truth? You didn't want him to grow up, with some complex? You didn't want him to think you don't love him?"

She shakes her head, as she pulls into a parking spot, in front of the precinct. "You've got it all wrong."


	20. Coming Clean

When she enters the squad room, she finds John, sitting at her desk. Nick walks in, behind her. John turns her chair, and looks at Nick.

"Amanda, and Fin went over to the diner we like to eat at. Why don't you go join them, Nick?"

"What's going on?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I'm just asking for a moment," John clarifies.

Nick nods, in understanding. He leaves the squad room, and heads to the elevators. The squad room is mostly empty. Olivia stands at the end of her desk, just looking at John.

"Why are you sitting at my desk?" she questions.

"I walked by your desk, earlier," he reaches for the picture on her desk. He holds it up, "and, I found this," he explains.

"And?"

"It's new," he points out.

"I am aware. I just put it there, this morning."

"And, I can tell, from your hair, and the way you were dressed, that it's from well over a decade ago."

"So?"

"What's going on with you? Why did you take time off work, after that case, last week? Olivia I have known you, for... what? About fourteen years, right? I would appreciate the truth."

She briefly glances at the picture, in the frame. She swallows hard. "He's my son," she reveals.

"Your son? Since when do you have son?"

"He's sixteen, now," she answers.

"You have a sixteen year old son? Why wouldn't you tell me that?"

"I never told anyone."

"I know you. You have always wanted to be a mother. Why wouldn't you want to scream that, from the rooftop?"

"It's a complicated situation."

"Un-complicate it," John insists.

"He's never met his father. His father doesn't know about him."

"Why would you keep him a secret from everyone, including his father?"

"Originally, I thought that I was protecting them."

"And now?"

"I think for a long time, I just wanted him to myself. I didn't want to have to share him, with anyone. I know that I really screwed up."

"You should have told me. You should have told everyone."

"I didn't know how."

"I can understand, that you didn't want perps to know. That is something I get. What I don't get, is why you wouldn't want your co-workers to know."

"I told you, it's complicated."

"Olivia, just tell me why?"

"His father is a cop."

"Oh," John nods.

"And, when my son was conceived, he was married. No matter how much, I love my son, I am always going to feel guilty. Ethan, is the most incredible thing in my life. Every day, I am so thankful, that he is here. I am thankful that he came into my life, when he did. Before he was born, my life was a mess."

A light-bulb goes off, in John's head. "Is it someone I know?"

"I am not going to go down this road," Olivia tells him.

"Come on."

"Munch, you know a lot of people," she reminds him.

"I know a lot of cops. Which, you're right, does increase the odds, that I know the guy. You can tell me."

"No, I can't."

"So, are you going to tell everyone else?" he questions.

"I told Cragen, last week. Nick confronted me, during our investigation..."

John cuts her off, "That kid, that was killed by his girlfriend's brother? He was your son's age, right?"

"They were best friends. His mother, and I knew each other, in college."

"So, your kid, just lost his best friend?"

Olivia nods, "Yeah. They were like yin, and yang. Ethan is pretty devastated."

"Do I get to meet this kid?"

"I don't know about that."

"You still have to tell the rest of the squad. You can't keep this a secret, anymore."

"I..."

John looks at his watch, "It's after three, he's out of school, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Why don't you call him? Have him meet us, at the diner."

"I don't know if I'm ready for the eighteen million questions that they're going to ask."

"Don't you think it will be easier to tell everyone at once? Then you don't have to answer the same questions five times?"

* * *

They're sitting at a table, at the diner, near the precinct. Even the Captain has come to join them. Olivia slides into a chair, next to John. Amanda looks up, from her cup of coffee.

"Nice of you two to join us. What gives?" Amanda comments.

"Just tying up some loose ends," Olivia reveals.

"I see," Fin eyes them suspiciously.

Between Olivia, and Cragen there is an empty seat. Amanda studies it, and then looks at her fellow detectives.

"Is someone else joining us?"

Before Olivia can answer, the bell, above the door rings. They look up, at the person entering the diner. He's a tall, athletic teenager. He looks around, until he finds Olivia. He smiles, and walks over to the table. Without a word, he pulls out the chair, and takes a seat next to her.

They stare at the teenager, blankly. They look to him, and then Olivia, and back, again. Amanda's mouth hangs open, as if she's ready to ask something. Ethan clears his throat, and plasters on a smile.

"I'm Ethan," he announces.

Nick smiles at his partner. John studies him, quietly. Cragen turns his chair, towards him. Amanda, and Fin stare at the young man, in confusion.

"That's a bold move, to sit down at a table, full of cops," Fin points out.

"He's with me," Olivia chimes in.


	21. Shock and Awe

Fin looks over at Nick. He shakes his head, in disbelief.

"So, this means that you were right?" he questions.

"I think so," Nick nods.

Fin doesn't miss a beat. He looks at Olivia, with an icy stare, "Who is this cat?"

Ethan answers for her, "I'm her son," he reveals.

Amanda furrows her brow, "You're her, what? I think that I misunderstood. Olivia doesn't have any kids."

"He's my son," Olivia confirms.

"Wow," Amanda exhales, in shock, and disbelief.

Without a word, Fin pushes his chair back, and leaves the table. He walks out of the diner, onto the sidewalk. Amanda looks to Cragen. Don shakes his head.

"Let him go. He needs to cool down," Cragen insists.

"Why didn't you ever mention that you have a teenage son, to me?" Amanda wonders.

John looks at her, "Don't feel bad. You weren't the only one. None of us knew."

"That's a big secret to keep," Amanda points out.

"I'm sitting right here," Ethan points out.

"He looks even more like you, in person," Cragen tells Olivia.

John stares at Ethan. He looks a lot like Olivia, from the shape of his face, to the cheek bones. His dark hair, is cropped close to his head. John looks at the kid, who stares at him, with big, bright, blue eyes.

"Where did he get blue eyes from?" Amanda asks the question, that everyone is thinking.

"Not from me, obviously," Olivia answers.

"Then where?" Nick follows up.

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"You don't know, or won't say?" Amanda calls her out.

Olivia looks over at Ethan. He checks his watch.

"I've got to leave, for practice, or I'm going to be late," he tells her.

She nods, grabbing her jacket. "I'll take you."

She leaves the diner, with her son.

* * *

She leaves her co-workers sitting at the table, dumbfounded. Amanda looks over to John.

"Who is his father?" she poses the question.

John shrugs, "I don't know. She wouldn't tell me."

Amanda looks over to Cragen, "Don't look at me," he insists, "she didn't tell me either."

"Nobody knows?" Amanda asks, looking around the table.

"Liv knows," Nick answers, "but she's not sharing. I don't think that the kid even knows."

"He doesn't," John confirms.

"Why wouldn't she mention that she has a kid? He's sixteen. That is a huge secret to keep," Amanda wonders, in frustration.

"I don't know that I agree with her," Nick begins, "but, I kind of understand where she's coming from, as a parent. She wanted to protect him."

"From what?" Amanda responds.

"The entire world," Nick explains.

"You can't do that," John points out.

"Yeah, but it doesn't stop you from trying," Nick points out.

John shakes his head, "So you're saying that you could keep your daughter a secret for sixteen years?"

"If I had reason to, I would keep her a secret my entire life," he admits.

Amanda rejoins the conversation. She looks at her boss, who sits across the table, "Captain, you're being awfully quiet. Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Because it's not my place to judge Olivia. I am not in her situation. I can't even begin to understand her choices, because I have never been a parent. I know that I would do whatever it takes to protect my squad. I can understand where she's coming from."

"Where did Fin, go?" Nick wonders.

"He's just angry," John explains.

"I think we're all a little angry," Nick admits.

"He feels betrayed, I think. He feels like after everything we've been together, as a team, that Olivia should have trusted us, trusted him, with her secret. He'll get over it. He just needs time."

"Fin? He's such a tough acting guy. He doesn't seem to let anything faze him," Nick tries to understand.

"Act is exactly the right word," John adds, "He acts tough. He has to, to function, in this job. We all do. He's been my partner, for a long time. He's sensitive, too. He won't talk about things. He never mentions his feelings. He just internalizes things."

"That's why he blows up, sometimes," Cragen points out.

"Doesn't that make him kind of a liability?" Amanda queries.

"He's not like most people, with anger issues. Most people lose control, and fly into a rage. Fin is always in control. He harnesses his anger, and uses it to his advantage," John explains.

"I'm still worried about him. I'm going to try and find him," Nick slides out of his seat.

* * *

Nick finds Fin, sitting in the squad room, at his desk. He sits still, not saying, or doing anything. Nick stops, at the end of the desk. Fin doesn't look up at him.

"You ok?" Nick asks.

"I didn't want to believe it," Fin admits.

"I know. You didn't want me to be right. You didn't want to think that it was possible."

"She's a good person, and a damn good detective. I never expected that she could be so cold," Fin tells him.

"I know. It's a lot to process. I can't imagine keeping my child secret, for as long as she has."

"I can't understand why she did, what she did."

"She was trying to protect her kid."

"She was trying to protect her kid, or herself?" Fin responds.

"I think she was trying to protect everyone. She realized, that she can't."

"What about the kid's father?"

"He doesn't know," Nick reveals.

"Why wouldn't she tell him?"

Nick shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe one day, she'll trust us enough, to tell us the whole story."

"We're her family. She should already trust us."

"You know she's a private person."

"Private person, or not, if you work with the same people every single day, you tell them that you have a kid. It's not as if her son is a year or, two old. He is sixteen years old. How can you even do that?"

"I don't know," Nick admits.

"How can you do that to your kid?"

"I am not the one that you should be talking to. You need to talk to Olivia."


	22. Remembering

She drops Ethan off, at practice. She stays, and watches him. When they get home, he heads to his room, to study. She sits on the couch, with the TV on, in the background, completely consumed by thought. She thinks about herself, at twenty seven, going on twenty eight. She wasn't the same person, then, that she is now. Not even close.

* * *

_December 12th, 1995 11P.M.-She sits at the bar, drinking. It's the night before her 28th birthday. She's been undercover, for nearly two weeks, at this point. She hasn't made the connections that she needed, to bring her target down. She sits there, alone, working on her fourth alcoholic beverage of the night. _

_Someone slides into the seat, next to her. He looks over at her. She pretends as if he's not there. She's been working with, for weeks, to catch a group of people. In all honesty, she's getting sick of him, and his instincts. They may be spot on, but he is starting to get on her nerves. He doesn't overtly flaunt the fact that he's more experienced, but subtly, he does. _

_The bartender hands her a new drink. The man sitting next to her, shakes his head. The investigation in which they're working on involves at least three different units of the NYPD, and two other government agencies. She knows of at least four other people, other than herself, with the sole mission to bring a major crime network to it's knees. _

_He clears his throat, and looks over at her. He reaches for her drink. The bartender intercepts._

_"Sir, can I get you anything?"_

_"Nothing for me," he insists._

_The bartender nods, and walks away. He looks over at Olivia. He leans in, towards her. He whispers in her ear, as if she's an intimate partner, instead of a work partner. _

_"You know, just because your cover is an alcoholic, doesn't mean that you have to be one."_

_She smiles, as if he's told her something incredible. She turns, and whispers in his ear._

_"You know, in the real world, tomorrow is my birthday."_

_He sits upright, in his seat. "I am sorry that you're stuck here, with me."_

_She downs her drink. The bartender brings her another one. He looks over, at her partner._

_"You should keep better control of your wife," he tells him._

_"I'll take her to a meeting in the morning. There is no stopping her, once she's gotten started," he replies._

_"How did you get a girl like that, anyway?"_

_"Everyone has their price," he reveals._

_"Can I get you anything to drink?"_

_Olivia looks over at him, "Come on, honey," she fakes a smile._

_"I'll have whatever she's drinking."_

_The bartender nods. He returns a few moments later with a drink, for each of them. _

_"How long have you been married?" the bartender questions._

_"Three years," Olivia reveals._

_"I can tell that the honeymoon is over," the bartender comments, to Olivia's 'husband'. _

* * *

_December 13th 1995-215 A.M._

_He opens the door, to their townhouse. They have both had a few too many to drink. She barely makes it in the door. He closes it, behind them. He marvels at the apartment, once again. It's nice than his apartment. Why the department sprung for such a nice place, he would never understand. Maybe, it is because everything has to look right. He shakes his head, if that is the case, they never would have paired him, with her. _

_A young female detective, more stubborn than the day is long to play his wife? That is a joke. She was inexperienced in undercover operations, and he fears she's going to blow their cover, and their investigation. _

_She looks over at him, and smiles. He takes his jacket off. He moves across the room, towards her. She's incredibly inebriated. He reaches for her coat. She struggles._

_He whispers, "Come on, let's get this coat off. It's wet, from all the snow."_

_She stops fighting him, realizing that he's trying to take care of her. He unzips the coat, and pulls it off her. He lays it over the arm of the couch. She realizes how close he's standing, next to her. She looks into his eyes, and smiles. She leans in, and kisses him. After a moment, he pulls away. _

_"Whoa!" he puts the brakes on._

_"It's my birthday."_

_"You're drunk."_

_"So are you," she taunts him._

_"I..."_

_She cuts him off, "You're my husband."_

_"How did I get such a catch? I married an alcoholic."_

_She pushes him, "Take it back," she insists._

_"You going to AA in the morning."_

_"I don't have a choice," she reminds him._

_He takes a step forward. "Don't touch me, again," he warns._

_She smiles, with a devilish look in her eyes. She presses her lips, against his. He doesn't back away, this time. He takes her defiance as a challenge. He looks at her, waiting to see how far she'll take it, before she stops. He knows, she's a good cop, and that she won't cross the line. _

_She doesn't stop. She peels off his tie off, and tosses it on the ground. She doesn't stop there. She keeps going, until they reach their spacious, elegant master suite. A trail of clothes follows them down the hallway. When they reach the bed he's down to a pair of boxer shorts, and one sock. She's down to a bra, and panties. He kisses her neck, as she stands, with her back to the edge of the king sized bed. _

_"Are you sure about this?" he tries to be a voice of reason._

_She looks over, to the bedside stand. "We're off the clock," she whispers, as she kisses him, again. _

_One of his hands rests on the small of her bare back. He holds her close to him. His other hand rests against her jaw line. He continues to kiss her, but hesitates, before going any farther. He begins having second thoughts. He is a married man, he tries to remind himself. He looks into her big brown, eyes. _

_She doesn't hesitate. Her fingers rest on the band of his boxer shorts. _

* * *

_December 25th-1995- 5AM-_

_She rolls over, towards the clock. She blinks, looking at the bright numbers. She looks at the time, and is reminded that she's been here, living in someone else's reality, for nearly a month. It's been two weeks, since she's crossed the line, with her temporary partner. She takes a deep breath, and rolls towards the other side of the bed. _

_He lies there, under the covers, on the completely opposite side of the bed, from her. He wears a pair of boxer shorts, and she wears an over-sized t-shirt. He wakes up, when he feels the warm body roll towards him. She stops, when she reaches him. He can feel her body lying against him. He has his back to her. She touches his shoulder. _


	23. Why?

_December 25th 1995-502 AM_

_"Merry Christmas," she whispers, in his ear._

_He lies there, in silence, feeling guilty, for not being at home, with his family. He feels guilty, for crossing the line, and betraying his wife's trust. But, for some reason, he rolls over, to face her. She stares at him, in the darkness, of their room. She doesn't say anything, but she can sense the sadness, in his silence. She kisses him. He kisses her back. _

* * *

_December 27th-1995-3pm_

_She sits at home, finally finished working undercover. She sits on her couch, in silence, thankful that it's all over. She wonders if she'll ever seen her fake husband, ever again. Probably not, she reminds herself. She thinks about going to the bar, and drinking._

_She is her mother's daughter. She doesn't like to resist having a good time. She begins to think about where it had landed her mother, for the umpteenth time. Her twenties had been full of drinking, and having a good time. _

_Just a few weeks ago, she had been sitting at a bar, drinking. That was the night, she crossed the line. She knew he was married. She knew it was wrong, but she did it, anyway. The next morning, she had felt as guilty, as hell. And, she went to an AA meeting._

_The alcoholism, and the AA meetings, all part of her cover. The deep she got into it, and the longer she was there, the more she realized it wasn't really an act. He had helped her see that. _

_She gets off the couch, and goes into her kitchen. She opens the cabinet. She stares at the bottles of alcohol inside. She grabs them, and begins to pour them down the drain. She doesn't want to be like her mother, she reminds herself. She vows to learn to have limits, and not to be so hard on herself. _

* * *

_January 27th-1996-_

_It's the fourth day, this week, she's felt like crap. It's also the fourth day this week, she's awakened, before the alarm clock, to vomit the entire contents of her stomach, into the toilet. It's a Saturday. She hasn't taken a drink, in weeks. In fact, she's been so completely consumed by cases that she hasn't had the time. _

_She jumps into the shower, and then brushes her teeth, for what seems like the tenth time in an hour, and a half. She pulls on the first clean clothes that she can find. She dries her hair, and leaves the apartment. She heads to the drugs store, that is around the corner. She grabs what she's looking for, and leaves quickly._

_She pees on the stick, and sits on the lid of the toilet seat, waiting. The knot in the pit of her stomach tells her this isn't going to end well. She tries to convince herself that it's not possible._

_"I'm not ready for this. I can't be pregnant," she tries to reason._

_Her mind wanders back to her time, undercover. In fact, she recalls, there had been a lot of line crossing. Too much. She blinks away tears, praying that it's not true. If she is, she can never tell the father. He's married, and has a family. She refuses to be responsible for ripping apart his family. _

_She gets up, and walks over to the counter. The bright pink plus sign stares up at her. She shakes her head, as the tears trickle down her face._

_"Shit!" she curses herself. _

_For the next several days the only thing that she feels, is numb, and nauseous. She can't even think of the possibility of having a child. She's twenty eight, single, and a female cop. She works too much, and is married to the job. _

* * *

_Monday January 30th, 1996-_

_She lies on the table, praying that the stupid plastic stick, is somehow wrong. She waits for the technician to begin. A sound fills the room. The technician smiles, and points to the screen._

_"There is your baby."_

_Olivia hesitates to look. After a moment of silently convincing herself, she looks over at the screen. She stares at the image on the screen. It's as if a switch flips on, inside of her, even though what she's looking at looks much like a peanut. _

* * *

_February 3rd 1996-_

_She transfers to another unit, temporarily. It is a unit where her job requires her to be at a desk, most of the time. She never tells anyone, the real reason that's she's transferred._

* * *

The sound of someone coughing brings her back into reality. She looks up, and finds Ethan in the kitchen. He stands in front of the fridge, with the door open, like a typical teenage boy. She gets off the couch, and goes into the kitchen.

"Do you want me to make you something?"

"I think that I'll just have cereal."

"Let me fix you something," she insists.

"Ok."

"What do you want?"

"Mac and cheese."

"You're not five," she reminds him.

"It's still my favorite. You make the best."

"It's out of a box," she points out.

"That doesn't matter. It never tastes the same when anyone else makes it."

"You're just saying that," she reaches for the box of mac and cheese.

He lifts himself onto the counter, to watch her, as she cooks.

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Ok."

"And, I don't want you to take it as if I'm attacking you."

"Just spit it out, E."

"Why did you sleep with a married man? It goes against everything you stand for."

"To complicate your life," she jokes.

"Be serious," he begs.

"Why? I don't know why. Sometimes, in life we do the wrong things, even when we know that they're wrong. I was in my twenties. I wasn't the same person that I am now. Having you made me grow up, a lot."

"Why did you keep me?"

She nearly chokes to death, on her own saliva, that he would be so bold, and so blunt.


	24. Halfway To The Truth

"Why would you even ask me something like that?"

"Because I want to know. You were a single, female, cop. You had to know that it wouldn't be easy."

"You are my reason for living, for breathing."

"That doesn't answer my question. You didn't tell my father. You knew that you would have to do it, on your own. So why?"

"Because I love you."

"That isn't a reason."

She argues, as she turns around, to look at him. "Yes, it is. I didn't know if I would be a good parent. I didn't have any idea how to raise a child. I just knew, that I loved you. I couldn't explain it. I remember when I saw you, for the first time. You looked like a peanut, on the screen, but it didn't matter, because you were mine."

"But..."

"You don't have to understand it, but one day, you will."

"I looked like a peanut?" he questions.

"At seven weeks, you pretty much looked like a cute little peanut."

"A peanut?"

"You grew out of it," she points out.

Later that night, she crawls into bed. She lies there, surrounded by pictures. She pulls out one. The picture of the back of someone's head. It's grainy, and out of focus. She looks at it, and it takes her back.

* * *

_February 17th-1996_

_She's sitting at a table, at a restaurant, across from her mother. The waiter comes to take their orders, for drinks. Her mother orders up something, on the rocks, even though it's only time for brunch. Olivia rolls her eyes, and says, "Just water."_

_The waiter walks away. Her mother eyes her suspiciously. She shakes her head, in confusion._

_"Water? You're drinking water?"_

_"Yes," Olivia confirms._

_"Are you feeling ok? Are you sick, or something?"_

_"I am feeling ok."_

_"Are you sure? You have dark circles, under your eyes, dear. And you look pale. Are you coming down with something?"_

_"No. I'm not coming down with anything."_

_"Then why didn't you order a drink?"_

_"Because I don't want one."_

_"One drink never hurt anyone."_

_"I am not having this argument with you."_

_"Fine," Serena relents. "I really wish, that you would tell me what's going on with your life, instead of shutting me out. I know I haven't always been the best mother, but I am, in fact your mother. If there is something wrong, I would like to know."_

_"There is nothing wrong."_

_"Then why do you look so guilty? Is there something you're not telling me?"_

_"Yes," she confirms._

_"What?"_

_"I'm pregnant," she admits._

_"Come again," Serena insists._

_"I'm pregnant," she repeats, softly, so the whole restaurant doesn't hear._

_"Are you sure?" her mother follows up._

_"Yes."_

_"For how long?"_

_"About nine weeks," she admits, unsure how Serena might react._

_A smile creeps across Serena's face, "Good for you."_

_Olivia looks at her, confused by her reaction. "Huh?"_

_"I said good for you. I am happy for you."_

_"You are? You're not going to lecture me..."_

_Serena cuts her off, "No."_

_"I didn't say that I was..."_

_Serena cuts her off, again, "You wouldn't be telling me, if you weren't planning on keeping it, would you?"_

_"I guess not."_

_"For the record I am too young to be grandmother."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"But I vow to be much better at that, than I was, at being a mother."_

* * *

She looks at the clock, knowing she should go to sleep. She collects her pictures, and puts them into the box. She puts the lid back on the box, and shoves it under her bed. She flips off the lamp, and crawls under the covers.

When she wakes up, she finds that Ethan has already left for his morning run. She jumps into the shower. Her phone rings, as she gets out. She expects someone calling to tell her that she has a case. She grabs the phone.

"Benson," she answers.

"I've got a crime scene, you want to join me?"

"What about your partner?" Olivia questions.

"John thinks he has ebola, or something," he reveals.

"Again?"

"I'll pick you up, in fifteen."

"Ok," she agrees.

She meets him outside. She climbs into his car, and closes the door. He looks over at her, as they pull away.

"Why did you come to pick me up?"

Fin doesn't look in her direction, "I'm sorry about the way I reacted."

"You shouldn't be apologizing, I should," she argues.

"You have a sixteen year old son. What was I supposed to say, to that?"

"What could you say, you were blind-sided."

"I am still angry at you. You should have trusted me."

"I know."

"So what about the kid's father?"

"What about him?"

"Why won't you say who he is?"

"He's a cop."

"So?"

"I was trying to protect him."

"Is it Elliot?"


	25. Belonging

"Why does everyone ask me that?"

"Everyone? Who is everyone?"

"Even my son asked me that."

"So is he?"

Olivia shakes her head, "You know I am tired of getting asked that question. We were not partners then."

"Olivia, I wish you had told me."

"I am sorry, that you feel betrayed. That was never my intention."

* * *

She manages to make it home, before eight o'clock that night. She remembers that Ethan has a basketball game, at another school, so she'll have the apartment to herself, for a while longer. She takes a seat on the couch, and flips on the TV. She's barely sat down, when someone starts knocking on the door.

"Did you forget your key?" she hollers, as she heads towards the door.

She pulls it open, without a second thought, expecting it to be her son. Instead, she finds someone else, standing on the other side of the door. She furrows her brow in confusion.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too," he greets her.

"Seriously, why are you here?"

"John called me."

"John is going to turn up dead, if he doesn't mind his own business," she reveals.

"He said that I should come talk to you," he reveals.

"I haven't seen you, in two years, and one phone call brings you to my doorstep?"

"He said it was urgent. What's going on?"

"Nothing, Elliot."

"Can I come in?"

"No," she shakes her head, "You need to leave."

"Look, I know that you're angry at me. Who wouldn't be? I left without even saying goodbye. That was wrong of me."

"You could have called. I have had the same number for years."

"I know, I'm sorry."

She steps aside, and lets him in. She slams the door shut.

"You can't stay long," she warns.

"Why? Do you have a hot date?"

She shakes her head, "Not tonight."

"So are you going to fill me in?"

"On what?" she folds her arms across her chest.

"On why Munch called me."

"Because he's a freaking idiot, that is always putting his nose where it doesn't belong."

"What's going on?"

"He thinks that we have a son, together."

"What?" Elliot furrows his brow.

"It is completely ridiculous, and off base."

"Why would he think that?"

Olivia shrugs, "Probably because he's an idiot."

"Should I volunteer my DNA to prove to him, that I am not the father of your imaginary child?"

Olivia breaks eye contact. He instantly picks up on this.

"Something you want to tell me, here? Am I missing something?"

She clears her throat, but doesn't make eye contact. "He's not imaginary," she says, under her breath.

"What?"

"I am not repeating myself, you should have been listening more closely," she locks eyes with him.

"I heard you. You said he wasn't imaginary."

"Oh."

"What's going on? Do you have a kid?"

"You should go," she insists.

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Why does Munch think that we have a son, together?"

"I don't know. We don't," she assures him.

"You have a son?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"How old is he?"

"It doesn't matter," she argues.

"I want to know. How old is he? Two, maybe three?"

"He's sixteen," she reveals.

"No," Elliot shakes his head, in disbelief.

"No, what?"

"There is no way on earth that you have a sixteen year old son, that I don't know about."

"His name is Ethan."

"Whoa! No, I don't buy it. What kind of game is Munch playing, here?"

Before Olivia can answer, the door comes open. Ethan steps into the apartment, and closes the door. He stares at his mother. He looks to Elliot.

"What is he doing here?" Ethan questions.

"Don't worry about it. Go to your room."

"No, I'm not," he argues.

Elliot stares at the six foot two inch sixteen year old. He is muscular, with dark hair, and big bright blue eyes. He turns to Olivia.

"The blue eyes?" he guesses.

"Yeah," she nods, in confirmation.

"I can't believe that you never told me," Elliot confronts her, feeling betrayed.

"Obviously, it's complicated."

He shakes his head, "Not that complicated. You have a son. You should have told me that, from day one."

"I couldn't."

"Why the hell not?"

"Look, I am not going to have this conversation in front of him," Olivia's voice grows louder.

"Why not?" Ethan wonders.

"Because it is inappropriate," Olivia insists.

"No. I want to hear. Is he my dad?"

Elliot looks at the young man, and smiles, widely.


	26. DNA Doesn't Lie

"Ethan, it's nice to meet you. You seem like a great kid. I would be honored, to be your dad."

Ethan cuts him off, "So, that's a yes?"

"I'm sorry, buddy. I am not your father," Elliot reveals.

"Are you sure?"

"It is impossible," Elliot confirms, "I didn't sleep with your mother then."

"Oh," the kid's heart sinks.

Olivia looks at Elliot, shooting him a look, and saying nothing.

"I should go," Elliot turns towards the door.

"I don't know what I missed, in the conversation. How do I know that the two of you didn't decide it was best for me not to know the truth?" Ethan wonders.

"You can have my DNA."

* * *

The following day, when she gets home, she hands him the report from the lab. He's sitting in front of the TV, when she places it in front of him. He studies it, closely.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but he's not your father."

"I can see that. So, who is my father?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I want to know."

* * *

The following morning, when she arrives at work, John has already arrived. She goes over to his desk, and puts the lab report on his desk. He looks up at her.

"What's this?"

"The answer to your question," she answers.

"I'm sorry. I thought he had the right to know."

She points to the piece of paper. "Read it."

He reads it, quickly, and looks up at her. "Liv, I'm sorry."

"Now I have a kid, who not only lost his best friend, less than two weeks ago, but got his hopes up, about finding his father. I am not the one that you should be apologizing to."

"You're right," he agrees, "Can I ask you something?"

"What?!"

"Why don't you just tell him who it is?'

"Because if he finds out, everything will change."

"Change is good."

"He will hate me. He will never understand."

"He might hate you, for never telling him. He's your son, don't you think he deserves to know who his father is?"

"I am his mother, I get to make that decision. I get to decide, if, and when I tell him."

"He's sixteen, I think he's old enough to understand."

"I don't even know if it's him that I am worried about."

"What do you mean? You're afraid the guy will find out?"

* * *

_April 16th 1996-_

_She waits, anxiously for the technician to begin. She takes a deep breath, as the ultrasound tech squirts the gel onto her stomach. She watches the screen, as the image of her unborn child appears. The baby looks like much more than just a peanut, now. The doctor looks at her, and asks, "Do you want to know the sex?"_

_"Definitely," she admits._

_"Congratulations, you're having a boy," he reveals._

* * *

_April 21st, 1996-_

_She sits on a park bench, watching, as people pass. The unborn baby inside of her, kicks her in the side. Though her stomach has grown, some in the past weeks, it's not noticeable, under her jacket. She watches, as a mother passes by, with a baby, in a stroller. The woman's husband walks alongside her. Olivia is hit by a sense of guilt. _

_Her son will never know that. Her son will never know his father, at all. She feels guilty, about the way it all happened. It was definitely not planned. It was the definition of accident. She finds herself wondering what kind of life her son will have, without a father._

_She feels guilty that they will never know each other. She tries to keep her thoughts from going on a course all their own, but she can't. _

* * *

She looks up, from her desk, and looks around the room. Some of her colleagues, are walking around the squad room. One is pouring a cup of coffee. One heads for the bathroom. Two of them sit at their desks. She feels the that even though she's revealed that she has a son, the guilt is still eating away at her. She swallows hard, and without a word, she leaves the room.

She heads into the ladies room. She washes her hands, and takes a look at herself, in the mirror. She shakes her head.

"You're everything you never wanted to be," she reminds herself, quietly.

* * *

Ethan knocks on the door, not entirely sure why he's there. The door comes open, and a tired face, greets him. Kelly smiles at him.

"What are you doing here, buddy?" she asks, with a baby in her arms.

He shakes his head, "I don't know."

"Come in," she insists.

He steps into the house. It's complete chaos. There is baby stuff everywhere. He is surprised, because he has only ever seen this house with everything in it's place. The baby, who lies in the bassinet, nearby starts to cry. Without a word, Kelly slips the sleeping baby boy into his arms. She heads over to the basinet, and scoops up the little girl. He carefully takes a seat, on the couch. She takes a seat next to him, as she pats the baby.

"They remind me of you, and Nate," she admits.

He looks at the little boy, who is sound asleep, in his arms. "How so?"

"One is laid back, and quiet, and the other is never quiet. His little girl, is just like him."

"Where is Chris?"

"At work."

"You're solo, with two babies?"

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Kelly, I guess I came, because I didn't know where else to go. I always came to Nate, to talk."

"You came to him, to talk?"

"He was actually a great listener."

"What's on your mind?"

"Why won't she tell me, who he is?"

"Why do we keep secrets, at all?" she answers, with a question.

"She says that she was trying to protect me, but I don't know if I believe that."

"Maybe it wasn't just you that she was trying to protect."

"I get that."

"Do you know who he is?"

"Donovan," she answers in exhaustion, without thinking.

"Donovan?"

"I am sure that's not his real name, but that is what she called him."

He scratches his head, "Wait, so she didn't even tell you, who he was?"

"No."


	27. Help

He shows up the precinct praying that his mother won't be there. He lucks out, finding that she's in court. He finds Nick, sitting at his desk. He quickly makes his way through the squad room, to Amaro's desk. He stops, when he reaches the desk. Nick looks up, at him.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Your mom is in court."

"I didn't come here, for her."

"What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Ok," Nick nods.

"She won't tell me who my dad is."

"I know."

"Can you help me?"

"I don't know how I can help you?"

"I have a name," Ethan reveals.

"Ok?"

"Donovan. I don't know if it's a first name, or a last name. I don't know if it's a real name, or an alias. Can you just see what you can find out?"

"What do you know about him?"

"He's a cop. That is all that I know."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Please don't mention this, to her."

"You've got my word."

"Thanks, Nick."

"Sure thing," he nods.

Ethan heads for the elevators. On his way out, Fin walks by. He makes his way to his desk. He sits down, across from Nick.

"What was that about?" Fin inquires.

"He wants me to see if I can find out who his dad is," Nick reveals.

"Are you going to do it? Olivia is your partner."

Nick shrugs, "I feel like it violates some code. She should tell him, if he wants to know."

"I agree."

"But?"

"If I were him, I would do the same thing. I would want to know."

"What do I do, here?"

"Tell me what you know, and I'll take care of it."

"That is even worse. You have known her even longer. She would be completely betrayed."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not her partner."

"Is this about revenge, because you feel like she should have told you?"

"Nick, I was there, when we went undercover, in a women's prison. I have seen her at her worst. She should have told me."

"I agree."

"She knows that she can trust me."

"I'm not sure I should do this. I am not sure that you should do this."

"Nick, don't worry about it. I'll spend an hour on it. If I don't find anything, I'll give up. If I do, then I'll tell him some basic info, that will keep him happy."

"He seems like a nice kid," Nick comments.

"I am sure that he's a great kid. I am sure Olivia is a great mom."

"Even though she's away from him, a lot?"

"We're all away from our kids, a lot, that doesn't make us bad parents. We do what we have to, to provide."

"You know there is something that is bothering me," Nick admits.

"What's that?"

"The school that he goes to, is a private school."

"So?"

"It costs fifty thousand dollars a year. There is no way that she can afford that."

"I'll ask her about it. Maybe she has some secret stash of cash, that we don't know about," Fin suggests.

"Then why is she still here?"

"Because, if she wasn't here, she wouldn't know what else to do."

"What, are you talking about?"

Fin smiles, "A shrink asked her one time, what she would do, if she couldn't be an SVU detective, anymore."

"What did she say?"

"She broke down. This is who she is."

"Are you sure about that?" Nick raises an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"The more we find out about her, it feels like the less that we know."

"She's still the same person," Fin argues, "she just has a kid."

"I don't understand why she couldn't tell us."

Fin shrugs, "I thought that maybe, it was because Elliot was the kid's father."

"She proved that wrong."

"Yeah. I don't know if she'll ever speak to John, again. I can't really blame her, he crossed a line."

"The kid definitely isn't his?" Nick wonders.

"Definitely not his. So, it blows my theory out of the water."

"You want to figure out who he is, just so you can understand her, don't you?"

"I need a frame of reference. I want to know where she's coming from."

"She said he's a cop. She didn't say that he was a good cop. Maybe he's bad news, and that is why she doesn't want everyone to know," Nick suggests.

Fin throws out another possibility, "Or maybe, he's not a cop at all. Maybe that is just a ruse."

"You think that she would look us in the eye, and lie?"

"She did lie," Fin points out.

"By omission."

Fin shakes his head, "I can remember being in interrogation, more than once, and someone asking her, if she had kids. She always said no."

"Technically she doesn't have kids, she has a kid."

"Whose side are you on, here?"

"She is my partner," Nick reminds him.

"That's no excuse. So what did you find out, from Ethan?"

"He basically knows nothing. I don't even know if the information he has is accurate."

"What did he tell you?"

"All he gave me was a name."

"A name?"

Nick nods, "He said he didn't know if it was a first, or last name. He didn't know if it was a real name, or an alias either."

"What's the name?"

"Donovan."


	28. Desperate Times

"Donovan?" Fin questions.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, that's what he said."

"Ok, I'll try to see what I can find," Fin responds, as he gets out of his seat, and leaves the room.

* * *

He finally makes it to her office. He knocks on the door. She tells him to come in. He closes the door, behind him. He takes a seat, at her desk.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nods.

"Are you here to identify body?"

"No, Dr. Warner, I am not."

"Then how can I help you?"

"I have a favor to ask."

She furrows her brow, "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," he admits.

"I am not sure how I can help you."

He holds out his hand, to shake hers, "I am Ethan Benson."

"Melinda Warner," she shakes his hand. "I know a detective Benson."

"I know," he reveals.

"You know?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Do you know her?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Are you related?" Melinda wonders.

"I am her son."

"Her what?! Olivia doesn't have any children."

"I'm her son," he repeats.

"I..."

"I read a study, about familial DNA."

"What about it?"

"I want to find out who my father is."

"I don't think that I can help you. I can give you the number of a lab, that can," Melinda offers.

"I don't know who he is, at all. I can't have his DNA tested, if I don't have it."

"What makes you think that I can help?"

"He's a cop."

"I am not even sure if I can believe you."

He pulls a baggy out of his pocket. It has a cotton swab, with his DNA on it.

"If you don't believe me, just run this. You'll see."

"I..."

"Please don't tell her. She doesn't know that I'm doing this."

"Look, if I have time, which I doubt that I will, I will see what I can do."

"Thank you," he smiles at her.

* * *

Fin returns to the squad room, about an hour later. Nick is still at his desk, when he gets back. Fin takes a seat, at his own desk. He types on the computer, trying to avoid Nick's questions.

"Why did you leave here, in such a hurry?"

"I wanted to get to work," Fin answers.

"You shot out of here like a bat out of hell."

"You made a promise," Fin reminds him.

"Then when I mentioned that name, why did you look as if you had seen a ghost?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Tell me," Nick insists.

"I haven't heard that name, in years."

"You know him?"

"Yeah," Fin confirms.

"Then why were you gone, so long?"

"Because I didn't believe it."

"Who is he?"

"His name was Darrell Donovan."

"And?"

"He hasn't been around, for years. I haven't thought about him, for a long time."

"So what happened to him?"

"He's dead."

"He's dead? The kid's father is dead?"

"Darrell Donovan is dead," Fin answers.

"That is going to kill him. No wonder Olivia didn't want to tell him."

"Look, Nick we can't tell him the truth."

"I will tell him I couldn't find anything."

"Good."

"Was he a good cop?"

"Yeah, he was."

"But?"

"He was married."

"Oh."

"Look I've got a lead I have to chase down, for a case, I'll be back in a while."

"Ok."

* * *

When she gets home, that night, Ethan is still awake. He sits on the couch, watching TV, when she comes in the door.

"How was your day?"

"Good," he tells her.

"Are you waiting on me?" she questions.

"No," he shakes his head, "It's not even ten o'clock yet."

"Don't you have a big test, tomorrow?"

"I studied all afternoon for it. I am watching my program, right now."

"Where is the attitude coming from?" she questions.

"I am just frustrated."

"With what?"

"This, show," he lies.

"Then why are you watching it?"

"Because I need to know how it turns out."


	29. Desperate Measures

He leaves the M.E.'s office, with information on his case. He has a file tucked under his arm. He returns to the squad room. He finds Olivia. He stops at her desk.

"We need to talk," he whispers.

"Can it wait?"

He looks at his watch. "The day is pretty much over, I think now is a good time."

"I am just finishing up here. I'll be done in twenty. You can walk me out," he responds.

"Yeah, ok," Fin agrees.

She finally finishes her paperwork, half an hour later. She grabs her jacket, purse, and phone. He grabs his jacket, and follows her out. He doesn't say anything, until they get outside.

"I drove, I'll drop you off," he offers.

"Ok," she agrees.

* * *

She follows him to his car, trying to read his facial expression. It's stone-like, and difficult to decipher. The only thing she can come up with, is anger. She climbs into the passenger's seat, and he locks the doors. He turns on the engine, but doesn't put the car into drive. He looks over at her.

"What's on your mind?"

"A lot," he admits.

"Are you angry, at me?" she wonders.

"No," he shakes his head, "I am pissed at you."

"Fin, I am sorry. I couldn't tell anyone. I was trying to protect my son."

"From what?"

She shrugs, "I honestly don't know, anymore."

"You made a mistake," he tells her.

"I know that. I know that you feel betrayed, I'm sorry."

"Olivia, we are way beyond that."

"What can I say, to make you believe that?"

"There is nothing that you can say, to make me believe that. I don't think that I even want you to say anything."

"Where is all of this anger coming from?"

"Because the truth isn't pretty."

"Fin..."

"You betrayed my trust. I don't think that I can forgive you."

"For betraying your trust?"

"To lying to me, for all of these years."

"I lied to everyone."

"I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you, what?"

"I have two words for you," Fin answers, "Darrell Donovan."

"What about him?"

"A little birdie told me that he's your son's father."

"You're wrong," she answers.

"When was Ethan born?"

"Why does it matter?" she queries.

"I assumed he was born in ninety five, but he's only sixteen, so that can't be true. Then I thought, maybe he was born in November, or December of ninety six, but that's not right either, is it?"

"No," she admits.

"When was he born?"

"September twenty fifth, nineteen ninety six."

"Interesting."

"Fin, you need to calm down," she insists.

His nostrils flare. "I don't think that I can."

"His father is not Darrell Donovan."

* * *

_December 25th, 1995-_

_She sits at the dining room table, across from her 'husband', Darrell Donovan. She wonders why they didn't find someone more convincing. They had completely opposite view points, on a lot of things. She would never marry someone like him. She smiles at him, realizing that sometimes, she enjoys playing Julie Donovan. But, right now, she just wants to go home._

_He looks across the table, at the twenty something, with dark hair. He chides himself, for having such poor judgment, even just this morning. He glances at the Christmas tree, in the other room. His alter ego, has a nicer life. He shakes his head, clearing the thought from his mind. At home, he has a family. His place isn't as nice, but there are people waiting on him. _

* * *

_September 25th, 1996 329AM-_

_They place the chunky baby on her chest. She looks at him, for the first time. He's plump, with chubby cheeks. He screams, at the top of his lungs, turning bright red._

_"Hi, little man," she coos, even though she is completely exhausted, from fourteen hours of labor. He stops crying. He looks up at her._

* * *

_September 25th, 1996-1130 AM-_

_She holds her baby, staring at him, in awe. She pulls his cap off, and runs her fingers through his head full of jet black curls. She replaces the cap, and begins to study his face. _

_"Hi, Ethan," she says. _

_His eyes flutter open. He stares up at her, with big blue eyes. He looks a lot like her. But, he looks nothing like she expected him to. She kisses his face. _

_"Welcome to the world, little man."_

* * *

"You're going to have to be straight, with me here," Fin reminds her.

"Now is not the time to talk about this."

"When is the time?"

"You have been keeping this kid from his father, for sixteen years. Don't you think he deserves to know who he is?"

"Yes."

"Then why won't you tell him?"

"Are you angry because I haven't told him, or are you angry because he doesn't belong to Darrell Donovan?"

"You know why I'm angry."

"Fin, please," she begs.


	30. Betrayal Of Trust

"Ethan has blue eyes," she reminds him.

"Genetics is a crapshoot, we both know that," he counters.

"Darrell Donovan is not his father."

"I know that. Darrell Donovan is a fictitious person, so he can't be his father. Olivia, stop playing games with me. I want the truth."

"You are being ridiculous."

"No, I'm not. I have proof."

"Proof? What proof?"

"DNA results," Fin reveals.

"You're bluffing."

* * *

_Earlier that day: He's standing in the M.E.'s office. She reveals her autopsy findings to him. He, and his partner head for the door. _

_"Fin, can you stick around, for a minute?"_

_"Yeah," he nods._

_His partner leaves without him. He moves over to the counter. Melinda pulls out a manila folder._

_"Yesterday, I met a young man by the name of Ethan," she begins._

_"Ethan Benson?"_

_"You know about him?"_

_"I only found out that he existed a few days ago."_

_"He's Olivia's son."_

_"I know."_

_"I have DNA results on him. I didn't believe it, at first."_

_"That he was her son?"_

_"That, too."_

_"Believe what?"_

_"Who his father is."_

_"Who?"_

_She opens the folder, and hands the piece of paper to him. _

* * *

_September 27th, 1996- Her mother sits on the couch, holding her new grandchild. It's the first time she's been sober, for more than twenty four hours, for as far back as Olivia an remember. Serena stares at the baby, and smiles. He sleeps, peacefully, in her arms. _

_Olivia takes a seat, next to her. She snaps a picture. She puts the camera away, and stares at the little boy, marveling at how perfect he is. She feels exhausted, by happy._

_"This isn't how I pictured him," he mother admits._

_"Me either. He's even sweeter in person."_

_"I never doubted he would be sweet. He takes after you."_

* * *

_January 21st, 1996- _

_It takes all of her strength to crawl out of bed, that morning. She barely makes it to the toilet, before she begins barfing. The wave of nausea disappears, and she climbs into the shower. The warm water instantly brings her to reality. The thought pops into her head. What if I'm pregnant? All of a sudden, she is completely awake. She turns off the shower, and returns to the toilet, to empty her guts. _

_She tries to push the thought from her mind. She can't, no matter how hard she tries. Pregnant. The word just keeps spinning around in her brain, like a merry-go-round._

* * *

_October 1st, 1996-_

_She lies on the couch, with the baby sleeping, in the basinet, next to her. It's her first night alone, with a new baby. She crawls off the couch, and makes her way over to the basinet. She scoops the sleeping baby up, and carries him back to the couch. She lays down, and places him on her chest. He turns his head, as if he's listening to her heart beating. She runs her fingers through his ringlets. She grins at him, marveling at the fact how he's nothing she expected, and everything that she wanted. She closes her eyes, and drifts off to sleep._

* * *

He shakes his head, "I'm not bluffing."

"How would you get Ethan's DNA?"

"He volunteered it."

"What are you talking about?"

"He is the one who asked for the DNA test."

"What?!"

"He came by the precinct, yesterday. He asked Nick to find his father."

"How? He doesn't know who he is."

"He told him the name was Donovan."

"How could he know that? I never told him."

Fin shrugs, "I don't know."

"Kelly," she realizes.

"The point is, Nick asked me what he should do."

"And?"

"I asked him for the name."

"And you were caught off guard?"

"Completely. He said Donovan, and I immediately knew who he was talking about."

"Of course you did."

"But I didn't want to believe it. There is no way in hell you had Darrell Donovan's kid, and didn't mention it, to me."

"What did you tell Nick?"

"That I hadn't seen Darrell in years, and that he was dead."

"So you lied through your teeth?" Olivia responds.

"No. I haven't seen him in years. He did die, according the _Times_. He died fifteen years ago, in a fire."

"I remember that."

"I remember that, too. I was there."

"Fin, what do you want me to say?"

"You don't have to say anything. I've got the DNA results."

"I don't believe you," she argues.

He pulls the file out, and hands it to her. He flips on the dome light.

"Melinda ran the test. She ran it, because she couldn't believe that you had a son, and didn't tell her. I told her, that you are full of surprises."

"Fin, I can explain."


	31. Answer

"How? How are you going to explain this to him?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he questions.

She can hear the pain in his voice. She shrugs, "I don't know," she admits, on the verge of tears.

"You should have told me," he tells her, in anger.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he furrows his brow, "Sorry is not enough. That doesn't even come close."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to explain to me, how I worked with you, for all of these years, and you never told me that you had a son, that _I _had a son. That is cold. You should have told me the truth, from day one."

"You were married," she reminds him.

"I wasn't married, when I came to SVU. You knew that. You knew that, and you still didn't tell me. What excuse could you possibly have?"

"I made a mistake," she admits.

"I get why you didn't tell me, when he was first born. You didn't know where I was, and you didn't know I was getting a divorce. But, when I came to SVU, you should have told me."

"Was I the reason that you got divorced?" she questions.

"I never told her. She never found out. You weren't the reason that we got a divorce. Our marriage ended, because I was never there for her, when she needed me."

"I felt guilty. I knew you were married."

"I knew that I was married, too. We had bad judgment, but that is no excuse for you to keep this from me. You denied me sixteen years of his life. Those are sixteen years that I can never get back."

"Why didn't you ask me, when you first saw him?"

"Because the kid has blue eyes, and he looks nothing like me. He looks like you. I never considered it."

"I wish that I could go back, and change everything. I wish I had told you, from the beginning. I can't go back."

"When you told us, that you had a son, you could have told me, then. Why did you continue to hide it, then?"

"I didn't think that you would be interested in being his father. Why would you? He is sixteen years old, he is practically grown. You missed most of the important moments, in his life, and it's my fault."

"Why wouldn't I be interested in being his father? That is my son."

"We had an affair. We were undercover, and we crossed a line. Most men..."

"Olivia, you know me. You know that I am not like most men."

"So, now what?"

"Imma take you home, and you're going to have a tough conversation with Ethan. You're going to show him the DNA test, and you're going to tell him the truth."

"Then what?"

"Then I want to start seeing him. I want to be part of his life. He's my son."

"Can we go?" she begs, not wanting to continue the conversation.

* * *

When she walks in the door, he's sitting on the couch, reading a book. He looks up at her, and then puts his book down. She looks as if she's on the verge of tears, as she shuts the door.

"Mom, are you ok?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong?"She walks over to the couch, and takes a seat, next to him. "I am."

He furrows his brow, "What do you mean?"

"I'm wrong. I have been wrong, for a long time. I'm sorry."

"What's going on?"

"You were right, you deserve to know who he is."

"I may have done..."

She shakes her head, "We'll talk about that, later."

"Ok," he nods, "Does this mean that you're going to tell me?"

"I don't have a choice, anymore."

"You did, but you wouldn't tell me. I had to know."

"You went about it the wrong way."

"You wouldn't tell me, what did you expect?"

"It doesn't make what you did, ok."

"I'm sorry. Please just tell me the truth."

"Darrell Donovan is not a real person," she reveals.

"What?" he furrows his brow, his heart sinks.

"Darrell Donovan was an alias."

"An alias? I don't understand."

"It was a name that he used sometimes, when we went undercover."

"Oh," his smile disappears.

"It was the first time I met him. We were undercover for over a month."

"Ok."

"Darrell Donovan died, in a fire."

"Wait, your saying that my father died, in a fire? Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"The alias died. The real person didn't die," she reveals.

"Just tell me who he is."

"I don't know if you're ready to hear this."

"Stop saying that, and just tell me. I don't understand why you couldn't tell me in the first place. I don't understand why you never told him."

"He was married then."

"You told me that. Is he still married?"

"No."

"Why didn't you tell him..."

She cuts him off, "I told him."

"When?"

"Today."

"Oh. So who is he?"

"You won't believe me," Olivia tells him.

"Just tell me who it is."

"Fin."

"Fin?" he looks at her questioningly, "The guy I met at the diner, who stormed off?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"No," he shakes his head, "there is no way. I don't believe you."

"That's the truth."

"But..."

She pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. She unfolds it ,and hands it to him.

"There are the results of the DNA test you wanted."


	32. Consequence or Second Chance?

He studies the test results. He looks up at her, in confusion, disbelief, and anger. He shakes his head.

"This can't be right."

"It is," she assures him.

"You're telling me that Fin is my father?"

"That is what I am telling you," she confirms.

"Elliot I could have guessed, but Fin?"

"I am sorry, if you're disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed, I am just confused," he admits, "This isn't the answer that I was expecting."

"I know that."

"Are you sure?"

She nods, "I am certain."

"One hundred percent?" he queries.

"Ethan, there aren't any other possibilities."

"Are you sure?"

"Ethan, I am sure. I was there. There isn't anyone else."

"How did this happen?" he rubs his temples, unable to understand.

"How did you get here?" she furrows her brow.

"No, why him?"

"All I have heard, your entire life, was you asking me, to tell you who your father is. Now, you know, and you're asking why?"

"Because I'm shocked. I never would have looked at him, and been like, yeah, that's the guy. I don't look anything like him. I don't understand."

"What part of it, don't you understand?"

"Any of it. How did you end up in a situation, with him..." he trails off.

She takes a deep breath. She knew this day would come, but she isn't prepared. She feels a sense of dread, thinking about having to tell him the whole story.

"We were working an undercover operation, together. Narcotics, SVU, major case, and Vice, homicide were all involved. There were some other players, but I didn't deal with them, very much."

"What takes all of those units?"

"Murder, human trafficking, drug smuggling, and prostitution."

"What was it, a brothel?"

"A church," she reveals.

"A church?" he questions.

"It is a long story," she admits.

"You were working with Fin?" he assumes.

"The detectives from major case, and vice were paired up. Then, they put the two of us together."

"As what?"

"A married couple, with problems, trying to buy a child on the black market."

"Oh."

"Nobody will allow an alcoholic, and a drug dealer to adopt a child."

"You were the alcoholic, and he was the drug dealer?"

"Exactly," she confirms.

"How long were you under cover for?"

"Just a little over four weeks. We were undercover as Julie, and Darrell Donovan. We spent every single moment together."

"You have been on a lot of undercover operations," he reminds her.

"Ethan, I wasn't the same person back then. I was young, and I didn't always make the best decisions."

"Did you know that he was married?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Did he know, that you knew?"

"Yes," she confirms, "I know that I am not a saint. I know that this is not easy to understand."

"No, it's not."

"Being undercover, has a tendency to play with your head, if you let it. I wasn't prepared, for going undercover that long. I had never been undercover, for more than a couple of days."

"I don't want to talk about this, anymore. I think I'm going to go for a walk."

"No, it's too late," she argues

"It's not that late."

"Don't go," she warns.

"Why did this have to be a secret, my entire life?"

"You were about three, the next time I saw him."

"That was thirteen years ago. You could have told him then. Why didn't you?"

She shakes her head, "I didn't know how to."

"You should have figured it out," his nostrils flare, as he gets off the couch. He heads down the hallway, to his room.

* * *

He closes his apartment door, and goes into the living room. He takes a seat on the couch. He leans back, and shakes his head. He is too wound up, to sit. He gets up, and heads down the hallway. He heads into Ken's old room. He stands in the doorway, in the dark. For the most part, it is the way his son left it. He hadn't always made the best decisions, for him. He wasn't always there, when Ken needed him.

And, now, he finds out he has another son. A sixteen year old son. A kid, whose mother, is his co-worker. A child, who was conceived during the middle of an undercover op. He was unprofessional, he knew that, but he never considered it would have resulted in a child.

How could she not have told him? Sixteen years? Sixteen years, she lived with that secret, that guilt. He had been married, when it happened. He would never forgive himself for that. Now, he realizes, he doesn't have a choice.

She was young, and they both knew that they were crossing the line. She had dealt with the consequences. He shakes the thought from his head. The kid isn't a consequence, but a second chance.

* * *

_December 13th, 1995-_

_He looks over at her, lying in bed, next to her. The voice in his head is telling him that what they've just done is wrong. She lies there, in silence, looking at him, but saying nothing. He stares into her dark brown eyes, and for a moment he feels peace. He looks at her, feeling as if he's met a kindred spirit. They are so different, but so similar at the same time. She grabs the sheet, and moves towards the edge of the bed._

_"This was a mistake," she realizes, as the booze start to wear off._

_"It's ok," he tells her, softly. _

_She pauses, and looks at him, questioningly._

_"What happens undercover, stays undercover," he whispers._


	33. Won't Let It Go

The next few days pass, in an icy silence, for Olivia. Ethan refuses to talk to her, and so does Fin. Saturday morning, she is surprised, when someone starts knocking on her door. She pulls it open, without looking through the peephole. She steps aside, and lets him come in. He closes the door.

"I didn't come here to see you," he reveals.

"I am the only one here," Olivia admits.

"Oh."

"Ethan is at the gym," she tells him.

"When will he be back?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. He's barely said two words to me, the past few days."

"I can't say that I blame him."

"Fin, I know that you blame me."

"Who else is there to blame?"

"How was I supposed to know that you wanted to be part of his life?"

"Maybe you should have asked," he answers, "You should have told me."

"I'm sorry."

"He's sixteen years old. I have missed out on everything."

"Fin, I made a mistake. I know you don't understand, but I was trying to protect all of us."

"All of us? How were you protecting me, by not telling me?"

"What do you think our captain would say, if he found out that we have a child together?"

"He's sixteen. What happened between us, is history. Besides, it's not really any of Cragen's business what goes on, in our personal lives."

"Need I remind you, that we were on the job, when Ethan was conceived?"

"No. I know that."

"I think that the department would frown upon that," she adds.

"The department didn't have to know."

"You're telling me, that if you knew, you wouldn't have told everyone? You wouldn't have bragged to people, about your son?"

"You didn't. I will never understand that, either. He seems like a good kid."

"He is an incredible kid."

"So why didn't you want to share him, with the world?"

"Because I was afraid."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ok," she nods, in agreement.

"How do you afford to send him to school?"

"What do you mean?"

"I looked it up, tuition to the school he attends is fifty grand a year. There is no way you can afford that on your salary."

"Are you accusing me of something, here?"

"While, I am beginning to question things I thought that I knew about you, I am not accusing you of anything. I am just wondering how you afford his tuition."

"I don't. I don't pay his tuition."

"Who does?"

"He has a scholarship. He got a full academic scholarship, when he was in the seventh grade."

"So they picked out some middle class kid, from here, instead of choosing a charity case, minority kid from the projects?"

She furrows her brow, "Are you saying that he didn't deserve it?"

"No, I am just asking why."

"It is how they justify recruiting him."

"Recruiting him?"

"They were interested in him, because of sports. He managed to take everyone of his sixth grade teams to state championships."

"Maybe it was good coaching."

"The same coaches had been there, for years. He is a good kid. He's a sweet kid, and he's super smart. Sports, that is where he shines. The Falcon's recruited him, because they wanted him on their varsity basketball team."

"Last time I checked seventh graders don't make varsity squads."

"But, sometimes, freshman do."

"He's that good?"

"Yeah," she confirms.

"How?"

"I don't know, you would have to ask him that."

"He's pretty angry at you, isn't he?"

"Everyone seems to be angry with me, right now."

"They'll get over it."

"I am not worried about them. I am worried about my son, and I'm worried about you. You might not like me right now, you may not want to be around me, but we have a son."

Before he can say anything else, the door opens. Ethan walks in. He closes the door, and looks at Fin.

"What are you doing here?" Ethan questions.

"I came to see you. I thought that we could hang out," Fin admits.

"You think that because I just found out that you're my dad, that I want to hang out?" Ethan quizzes, with a serious face.

"I was hoping that you would. If you don't, I'll understand."

Ethan cracks a smile, "I'm just giving you a hard time. What did you have in mind?"

"Whatever you want."

"I have a game later today, so I need to practice. It's the regional championships."

"Sure," he agrees.

"You two have fun," Olivia tells them.

"You're sure that you don't want to go?" Ethan quizzes.

"I am sure."

* * *

They head over to Ethan's gym. The lady at the counter tosses Ethan a ball, without a single word. He smiles, and Fin follows him onto the court.

"So, you want to play some one on one?" Ethan wonders.

"I wanna remind you, I'm an old man."

"And, I'm a young buck, but I still have things to learn, so get out here."

"I don't think that you want to play one on one, with me. You're used to playing with people your own age. They might be a little faster, but they don't have the same skill sets."

Ethan smiles, "Oh, I see. If you really believe that, you put your money where your mouth is."

"Done," Fin agrees.

"So if I win, what do I get?"

"I'll take you out for lunch. You can have whatever you want."

"Ok. I am pretty confident I am about to school you."

"Then you better make it pretty good," Fin insists.

"If I lose, I'll clean your squad car."

"Bessie is pretty nasty right now, so that is a deal," Fin agrees.


	34. Champion

Less than fifteen minutes later, Fin leans against the wall of the gym, panting, like a dog. He looks at the young man, who is still on the court. He smiles, and makes a shot from half court. His ball swishes in the hoop, adding insult to injury.

"You win," Fin admits.

"Glad to see that you can admit defeat."

"I have to ask, where did you learn to play basketball?"

"The same place I learned to play baseball, and football, too."

"Camp? School?"

He smiles, "From my mom."

Fin shakes his head, "There is no way," he argues.

"I am not the only person, who has taken their team to the championships."

"I didn't know that she played basketball."

"She could have played college ball, too."

"What happened?"

"Her senior year, she blew out her knee, in the championships. She even had a full ride to school. She had to give it up."

"She never told me that."

"Obviously, there are a lot of things that she never told you," Ethan reminds him.

Fin slaps him on the back, "That was a good game. You hungry?"

"I'm always hungry."

They sit at a nice restaurant, waiting on their meals. Fin looks at the young man, sitting across the table from him, in awe.

"So are we just going to let the time pass, in an awkward silence?" Ethan questions.

"There is something that has been bothering me," Fin admits.

"What's that?"

"Where were you?"

"When?" Ethan raises an eyebrow.

"When your mom was working late, going undercover, or even just on a date?"

"It's not like she left me at home, alone."

"I never thought that she did," Fin admits, "Did you stay with a babysitter, all of the time?"

"No. I stayed at Nate's house."

"His mom didn't mind?"

"His mother would have gladly traded Nate, for me. He was rambunctious, and had a short attention span. Having me around, kept him from getting on Kelly's last nerve."

"You never missed her?"

"Every kid misses their parents when they're away, even if it's only for an hour or two."

"You don't resent her?"

He shakes his head, "For having to work? No, not for a second."

"I can't imagine that you got to see her, that much."

"When I was smaller, she didn't work as much. The older I got, the more she worked. Until I was in preschool, she put in as little overtime as possible."

"I bet you still missed her."

"Yeah, but she always did stuff, that made up for it."

"Like what?"

"When I was eight, one day, she picked me up, from school, in the middle of the day. I thought I had a dentist appointment, or something. When we got outside, she told me that she just missed me. She took me to a movie, and out for ice cream. When we were done, we played basketball."

"I bet you still wished, sometimes, that you were playing basketball, with your dad."

Ethan smirks, "Not after today."

"Hey you've got to give me a break, I am a little bit rusty."

"I have a chance at scholarships."

"Do you want to play professionally?"

"Maybe, but I have to finish college first."

"Have to?"

"That is the rule," he reveals.

"I see."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I don't really know anything about you," Ethan reminds him.

"What's to know? I've been a cop more than half of my life. I have sacrificed things for my job, that I shouldn't have. What more is there?"

"You were married," Ethan points out.

"Yeah, I was," Fin admits.

"But..."

"My ex, and I split up, because I was never around. It had nothing to do with what happened between me, and your mom. In fact, I never told my ex-wife about what happened."

"Oh."

"She filed for separation, before I went undercover. I didn't see any point, in ruining our amicable split."

"It was amicable?"

"That is the way we both wanted it, for Ken's sake."

"Ken?"

"You have a brother, his name is Ken."

"I have a brother?"

"Yeah," Fin nods.

"When can I meet him?"

"Why don't we get to know each other, a little bit, before you meet him?"

"Ok," Ethan nods.

"So who is your favorite basketball team?"

"Not the Knicks."

"Let me guess, you're a fan of the Heat?"

"Those pansies? No."

"So who do you root for?"

"I don't really have a favorite team."

"That is a lie," Fin calls him out.

"The Celtics."

"The Celtics? Interesting."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"I can see that."

"Can I say something, without you being offended?"

"Go ahead," Fin nods.

"I never would have guessed that you were the guy. I never would have, in my wildest dreams thought that you and my mother were... whatever."

"I wouldn't have guessed that either. Sometimes what happened seems completely surreal. Honestly, I hadn't thought about it, in a long time. I try not to think about it, because your mother is my co-worker. Quite frankly, she isn't the same person that I met, when she was twenty seven."

"Are we sure the DNA is right?"

"Melinda ran it half a dozen times, because she didn't believe it."

"Look, Fin, I appreciate this, but you don't have to do this."

"Do what?" Fin furrows his brow.

"Take an interest. You don't have to try to be part of my life. Who wants to come into a kid's life, when they're sixteen? I understand if..."

Fin cuts him off, "Whoa! Slow down."


	35. Doubt

"What?"

"Why would you think that I wouldn't want to be part of your life?"

"Because you just found out about me. I practically grown. I mean..."

"Just stop," Fin warns.

"Ok."

"Do you have any doubt that your mother loves you?"

"Not for a second," Ethan admits.

"Do you doubt that she really thought she was trying to protect everyone?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Then you shouldn't doubt me, either."

"This is new to me. I don't know how this works. I have never had a father, before."

"I know, and that's ok."

"Let's face it, I look nothing like you. I have blue eyes. How does that happen? I mean your eyes aren't blue, my mom has brown eyes. I..."

"Genetics is a crapshoot. For the most part, you look like your mother."

"What do you see in me, that reminds you of yourself?"

"Your ears."

"My ears? That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

"Everyone in my family has those ears."

"The ears?"

Fin nods, "Yeah. I am serious. My grandfather had those ears."

"Maybe if I didn't cut my hair so short," Ethan adds.

"What do you mean?"

"I have girl hair," he reveals, "It's really thick, and when it grows out it's a mess. When it's long, girls always comment how nice it is. I started going with this look, when I was like eleven."

"What's wrong with long hair? You know, I used to have a pony tale."

"I couldn't get mine into a pony tail. I could use a head band, but not a ponytail."

"Why not?"

"Because it is whole mess of curls."

* * *

She sits across the table, from the man that she's been seeing, for months. He smiles at her.

"I love you," he tells her.

She looks up at him, and makes eye contact, "I can't do this."

He furrows his brow. "I say that I love you, and you tell me that you can't do this? Olivia what is going on?"

"I just can't do this, anymore."

He shakes his head, "What are you talking about? I thought that you were happy. I really thought that this was going somewhere."

"So did I."

"But?"

"I don't want a relationship, that is based on lies."

"Based on lies? What do you mean? You think that I am lying to you, about something?"

"No."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I don't want to lie to you, anymore."

"Lie to me, anymore? What have you been lying to me about?"

"This was a mistake."

"What was a mistake?"

"Thinking that this could work," she answers.

"Why wouldn't this work? Olivia just tell me what's going on. I am sure that I can deal with whatever it is."

"I'm not."

"How long have I known you?" he questions.

"That makes it even worse," she answers.

"Olivia, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Somehow, I think that when you hear this, you are going to disagree."

"Try me?"

Olivia shakes her head, "I think we should just end it here, before things are said, or done that we might regret," she warns.

"No. I am not going to end it right here, without an explanation. Why are you so afraid of commitment? Are you that afraid of being hurt? Sometimes I wonder if you are scared of being happy."

"I am not afraid of any of those things."

"What are you afraid of? You don't think that I am good enough for you?"

"I always find flaws in people," she begins.

"So, that's a yes?"

"You didn't let me finish."

"Go ahead," he insists.

"You are the first person, in a long time, that I have felt this way about. I haven't felt this connected to anyone, in a long time."

"What is the problem?"

"I have a tendency to sabotage relationships."

"I know that," he reminds her.

"And, I am concerned that I may have already done that, here."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because, no relationship should be based on lies."

"Lies? What lies? What have you been lying to me about?"

"It is a lie, by omission."

"What detail of your life have you been omitting? What is it that I need to know?"

"I have never told anyone that I have been seeing about this," she prefaces what she's about to tell him.

"Ok, why not?"

"Because I have never been this serious about someone, before."

"So tell me."

"I am afraid that it is going to be a deal breaker."

"I doubt it," he furrows his brow.

"Ok," she takes a deep breath, trying to build up enough courage to tell him.

"Just spit it out," he insists.

"I have a son."

"What?! You have a what?"

"I have a son," she repeats.

"Ok. Why wouldn't you just tell me that, upfront?"

"Because, I never tell anyone."

"You're afraid that it will scare them off?"

"I guess."

"Olivia, you should have just told me."

"I know that."

"So how old is he? He can't be that old."

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen months?" he tries to clarify.

"Sixteen years," she admits.


	36. Apologize

"That is impossible. I think that I would have known that, before. You can't have a sixteen year old son. Is this just some ploy, to test me, or something?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

She pulls out her phone, and pulls up a picture. She hands it to him. He looks at the screen, and then looks at her. She points to the image on her screen, of a sweaty, sixteen year old boy, after a basketball game.

"That's my son," she reveals.

"How did I not know about him, before?"

"I never told anyone."

"You had to have told someone, the kid is sixteen."

"Until the past few weeks, nobody knew about him. I never told anyone about him."

"Olivia, I don't even know what to say."

"I am sorry. I should have told you."

"I just can't believe that you would keep something this big from me. I can't believe that you would keep a secret of this magnitude, from everyone, for all of these years. I feel like I don't even know you. What kind of person hides the fact that she has a son, from everyone? What would possess you to do that? I mean why would you hide that?"

"It's complicated."

"Explain it to me. I want to understand."

"I never told his father," she adds.

"Olivia, that is cold. Why wouldn't you tell his father?"

"It is a long story."

He shakes his head, "So, if you got pregnant, with my kid, you wouldn't tell me, either?"

"Why wouldn't I tell you?"

He shrugs, "Past history tells me that you wouldn't."

"Of course I would."

"How do I know that? How do I know that I can trust you? You hid the most important person in your life, from everyone for sixteen years. I don't care what your reasoning was, it wasn't right. It makes me questions whether I really want to be with you, or not."

* * *

He slowly chews his food, completely distracted. He watches the young man across the table. He stares at him, as if he might get out of his sight.

Ethan looks up from his plate, "You're being creepy," he warns.

Fin shakes his head, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I was just thinking, how I can't believe that you're here. I can't believe that you're sixteen years old, and I never knew about you. It's surreal."

"Yeah, I know."

"I just wish that I had gotten to know you, before now."

"There are a lot of pictures."

"It's not the same as being there."

"There is video, too. I know it doesn't make up for time that you lost, but it's something."

"You know, I am trying really hard to be understanding, and to be civil, because Olivia is your mother, and because I work with her, but I don't know if I can ever forgive her."

"I don't know if I can either," Ethan admits.

"I wish that she had told me. I guess she thought that I wouldn't want you, or something. Obviously, she didn't know me well enough, to know that wasn't true. I would have been in your life, no matter what."

"Can you say that, with one hundred percent certainty?"

"I disappointed Ken, a lot. I wasn't there for him, like I should have been. I would have jumped at the shot to have a second chance. I am just sorry that she didn't think I would."

"I don't think she could get past the fact that you were married. She would never want to be responsible for ruining someone's marriage."

"But, when I came to SVU I wasn't married anymore. She knew that. She could have told me, then. You were three, or four. You probably would never have known that I wasn't around the first couple of years, because you wouldn't have remembered."

"It's hard not to be angry at her."

"But?"

"I think back to everything she has done for me, and all of the sacrifices she's made, and it makes me a little less angry."

"She missed a lot of important moments, didn't she?"

"Not as many as you think. I know that she would give her life for me."

"Any parent would."

"She almost did," he adds.

"What do you mean?" Fin furrows his brow.

"She nearly died during childbirth."

"What are you talking about? I think that she would have told me about that."

"It's not something she talks about, with anybody. She didn't even tell me. Kelly let it slip one day, by accident."

* * *

Ethan comes inside, and heads for the shower. They have had a long day, and he's exhausted. Fin enters the apartment, and finds Olivia sitting on the couch. She grabs a file box, and hands it to him.

"What's this?"

"After my date I had some time on my hands, so I went out to Queens, to my storage locker."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Video footage of Ethan, while he was growing up."

"Liv..."

She cuts him off, "I know that it doesn't make up for the fact that you weren't there, but it's the best that I can do."

"I was just going to say thank you."

"I am sorry you weren't there. It was selfish of me not to tell you."

"I will get over it, one day."

"You are far more understanding that I would be," she points out.

"Yeah, well you did a good job. He is a great kid."

"I got lucky."

"Maybe he got lucky," Fin suggests, "To have you as his mother."

"I doubt that."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she nods.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Did you almost die in childbirth?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Just answer the question," he insists.

"I hemorrhaged, and had to be transfused. My uterus nearly ruptured. I spent a few hours in the ICU, but we both ended up fine, so that's all that matters."

"That had to be scary."

"I don't remember any of it. I remember seeing him for the first time, and feeling kind of woozy, and then the next thing I remember I am waking up, and a nurse is wheeling him in the room."


	37. I Don't Wanna Know

He sits in his living room. He places the box on his coffee table, and lifts the lid off. He finds that the DVD's are in the box in chronological order. They are each neatly labeled with dates. He grabs the first DVD, and walks over to the TV. He inserts the DVD into the player, and grabs the remote controller. He returns to the couch, and has a seat.

* * *

_September 29th, 1996-_

_Olivia lays on the couch, sound asleep, with the baby on her chest. He's wearing a blue sleeper, and matching cap. The back of his head is turned towards the camera. The camera moves, to the other side of the couch. He looks like an angel, with chubby cheeks. Olivia's eyes open. _

_"Mom, what are you doing?"_

_"You're going to want to remember this moment," the voice behind the camera tells her._

_"Mom, please, I don't feel like it. I look disgusting, and I'm exhausted."_

_"In a few years, you'll thank me that you have this."_

_"I doubt it," she argues, "When did you buy a camera, anyway?"_

_"It doesn't matter."_

_The camera zooms in on the baby sleeping on Olivia's chest. _

* * *

It's after midnight, when she tiptoes into his room. She stops next to his bed. She waits in silence, to check and make sure that he's breathing. She knows that he thinks it's creepy, but one day when he has his own child that he'll understand. As she stands there, watching him sleep, she is reminded of a book she read to him, when he was younger. She smiles to herself, because she can't rock him back and fourth, back and fourth. The light from the hallway spills in through the crack on the door. It illuminates his face. She steps away from his bed, and leaves the room. She closes the door behind her, quietly. She grabs her keys, and leaves the apartment.

* * *

When she arrives at the precinct, she knows that it's a long shot. She enters the squad room, and finds that Munch is still there. He doesn't even look up from his desk. She moves quietly. She sneaks past him, to Cragen's office. She stops at his door. The light is still on, even though it's late. She doesn't knock, she just goes in. He is sitting at his desk, looking at a case file. She gently closes the door behind her. He looks up at her.

"Liv what are you doing here? It's late."

She takes a seat, across from him, "Captain I know that I have betrayed your trust. I just want to apologize."

"We all have things that we don't share."

"I should have shared."

"Olivia, what's on your mind?"

"There is something else that I need to tell you."

"What else could you possibly have to tell me? You have a husband, and a house in the suburbs, too?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Then, what?"

"It is about Ethan's father," she reveals.

"Ok, what about him?"

"I don't think that you're going to like who it is."

"Is he a criminal?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Then why would I care?"

"Let's just say, that hypothetically, he's on the other side of the law."

"Ok, let's say that. Now hypothetically, who is he?"

"You would be surprised."

"You seem to be full of surprises lately. Why don't you just tell me?"

"I don't think that it's my place," she insists.

"Not your place?"

"His father just found out that he existed. I think he should be the one to tell you, if he so chooses."

"Whoa! Slow down. Why did his father just find out about him?"

"I never told him."

"Why wouldn't you tell his own father? Olivia that is cold."

"I know that. I know how selfish I was. I was young, and I thought that I was doing the right thing. I didn't know that I was making a mistake."

"So, let me get this straight; Ethan's father just found out that he existed?"

"Yes," she confirms, "I just told him that he is Ethan's father."

"Who are you?"

"I know it makes you question everything you ever knew about me."

"If you have been lying to me, your son, and his father, for all of this time, what else have you been lying about? What else are you capable of."

"I was just trying to protect my son."

"From what?"

"All of the wrong things."

"How did his father react?"

"Better than I expected."

"I think you should go home. You and I will talk about this later, ok?"

She nods, in agreement.

* * *

The following day she's in autopsy. Melinda has finished going over her findings. Olivia sends her partner to get a cup of coffee, and stays behind to talk to Melinda.

"Do you need something, Olivia?" Melinda asks, coldly.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you," she admits.

"Go ahead."

"I am sorry."

"Let's talk in my office," Melinda tells her, ushering her to her office.

Melinda closes the door, behind them. She looks at Olivia in disbelief, and disgust.

"The other day, I had a young man walk into my office, and ask for a DNA test. Imagine my surprise when he said that you were his mother. I didn't believe him. How could someone that I have worked with, for so long possibly have a child, and me not know about it? I never thought you were that kind of person."

"It isn't that simple."

"Who was I going to tell?"

"It wasn't that I didn't trust you. No one knew."

"Olivia that makes it even worse. Everyone in the world knows that I have a kid. Normal people bring that fact up."

"I was trying to protect him."

"You were trying to protect him, or you were trying to protect yourself?"

"I honestly don't know, anymore. I have made so many mistakes, that I don't even know what I did right, anymore."


	38. Road To Forgiveness

"You know, I ran that DNA test half a dozen times, hoping that I was wrong."

"I am sorry that you got caught in the middle of this."

"I shouldn't have. You should have told the truth in the first place."

"I know that."

"Then what stopped you?"

"My son is my world. It wasn't as if I planned him. His conception was a complete accident. Having him changed my life."

"It turned you into a liar?"

"It wasn't as if there was a relationship. It was a bad decision that I made while I was undercover, with a married man."

"Fin is his father?"

"Yes, I know."

"What makes you think that it is ok to hide the fact that you have a child, from your co-workers for sixteen years?"

"I know that it wasn't ok."

"But, Olivia, you didn't even tell the boy's father. You didn't even tell your son who his father was. What kind of a person does that?"

"I said that I made a mistake."

"How do you think I felt, when I told Fin, and I realized that he had no idea that was his son?"

"Like I said, I am sorry that you got stuck in the middle of this."

"I am not the one that you need to be apologizing to."

"Why don't I buy your dinner, to make it up to you?"

"It's going to take more than dinner."

"How about dinner, and a basketball game? You can formally meet my son."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You have earned that right."

"How did you end up with Fin?"

"I wasn't with him. It wasn't a relationship. We were undercover as a married couple, and we both had some poor judgment."

"There was alcohol involved?"

"Lots of it," she admits, "I was young, and my judgment was clouded."

"From my perspective, it still is. You need to apologize to Fin, and your son, and frankly the entire department, don't you think?"

* * *

She's sitting on the couch, later that evening, when someone knocks on the door. She pulls the door open, without checking the peephole, knowing exactly who it is. He steps inside. She closes the door behind him.

"I got your message," he tells her, "What's up?"

"We need to talk," she tells him.

"Where's Ethan?"

"He is staying at a friend's house," she reveals.

"I am not sure that I have anything more to say to you," he admits.

"I have more that I need to say to you."

"You said it all, didn't you?"

"Fin I know that no matter how many times I apologize that it is never going to be enough. I know that I made a mistake. I was wrong. I didn't know that you would react the way that you did. I had no way of knowing that you would want to be in his life."

"You should have told me."

"Fin I don't think you understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"I didn't do it, for me. I did it for him."

"You denied him the chance to know his father, for sixteen years, for him?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I didn't want him to feel responsible."

"For what?"

"If your marriage didn't work out. I didn't want him to ever think, for a single second that his existence was to blame for tearing your family apart. Even if it wasn't true, he would have been far to young to understand that. I didn't want him to carry that around with him, for his entire life. And I didn't want someone to come in, and out of his life. I didn't want him to be disappointed."

"Olivia, you still should have told me."

"I know that. I know that I made a huge mistake. I can't take it back. I have to live with that, for the rest of my life. I don't know if my son will ever forgive me. I don't know if I can forgive me. I just want you to know, that no matter how misguided my reasons were, I was trying to do the right thing."

He looks her in the eyes, "Olivia I know that. I know that you were doing what you thought was best for him. I know he is your entire world, and that you didn't want him to get hurt. You still could have told me."

"You're telling me that if I had come to you, back then, and told you that I was pregnant, with your son, you wouldn't have been angry?"

He studies her facial expression. He pauses, to contemplate his answer.

"Are you honestly telling me that you wouldn't have placed some blame on me, or on Ethan, for the divorce?"

He shakes his head, "The divorce was my fault. No one wants to be married to someone who always shuts them out. My marriage was over, before you and I ever went undercover. It wasn't about trust. It was about being there. I wasn't there for them like I should have been."

"And you think that sixteen years ago, you would have been able to have the epiphany that your child should have come first?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

"Can we just move forward? I am so tired of being hung up on the past. Everyone makes mistakes, and I know that I am no saint. I did a lot of stupid things. I don't want to lose you, as a friend, because I was wrong."

"I am not going anywhere. I might be pissed at you, but it doesn't change the fact that I think you're one hell of a detective. And even though I don't agree with all of the choices that you made, you're a good mother. Our son is respectful, and kind. He's intelligent, and courteous. He's an amazing kid, and I can't take credit for any of that. You were the one who raised him."

"He is pretty incredible."

"Thank you, for him. Thank you for teaching him how to be a decent human being, and a good man."

"I didn't know what I was doing," she admits.

He smiles at her, "But you figured it out."

"What choice did I have? That boy is my life."

"I know."

"You want to stay a while? I can get you a beer?"

"Yeah, ok."


	39. Housekeeping

She sits on the couch, next to him. A three year old, singing, in the middle of the living room floor, at the top of his lungs plays on the TV. Fin reaches for the remote, and presses pause. He looks over at Olivia, and smiles.

"Has he always been that way?" Fin questions.

"Fearless?"

Fin nods, in confirmation.

"Since the day that he was born. He has never been afraid of anything."

"He looks so much like you that it's ridiculous," Fin points out.

"Not really. The shape of his face is the same. The eyebrows, maybe."

Fin cuts her off, "And the lips," he adds.

"That isn't my nose," she points out.

"I'll give you that."

"And somehow he ended up with blue eyes," she adds.

"Liv, you know, you aren't the only who should be apologizing."

She furrows her brow, "What are you talking about?"

"I never should have let things get that far."

"It was a two way street."

"I knew better," he argues.

"So did I. We were both adults," she reminds him.

"I should have stopped it."

"But if you did, he wouldn't be here," she points out.

He looks at the frozen image on the screen, of a sweet three year old boy, with big blue eyes, and a superman cape on.

"True," he turns, and looks at her.

She watches him, as he studies her. "What?!"

"Everything happens for a reason."

"And?"

"Maybe we should consider the possibility that..." he begins.

She cuts him off, "That what? You were married, and..."

He cuts her off, "I'm not married now."

Her eyes search his. She doesn't say another word.

* * *

She's cleaning when Ethan gets home, the following afternoon. He walks in the door, and drops his stinky gym bag on the floor, in front of the kitchen. She turns around, and looks at him, as she vacuums under the couch cushion. She turns off the sweeper, with her foot.

"You and I need to have a chat," she insists.

"Why are you cleaning?"

She looks at her watch, "Because it is one o'clock on Saturday, and I haven't been called into work yet, and I haven't thoroughly cleaned this place, in like a year. Plus, you weren't home, and that is the best time to clean."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I love you, but you are messy."

"What's with the pile of junk on the coffee table?" he questions.

"That is what we have to talk about," she reveals.

"What do you mean?"

"I found twelve dollars in cash, and change. I found about half a bag of doritos, three stinky socks, your house keys that you swore you lost, a pair of ear buds, and miscellaneous pieces of candy."

"That's not all mine," he insists.

"You're right, you never have money."

"Mom!"

"Ethan I want you to take your nasty gym bag to your room, and stop leaving it on the floor."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And I want you to dump it out, and sort it out. I want you to toss the trash, and throw all of your dirty clothes into the laundry hamper."

"Ok," he turns to leave.

"E, we're not done yet," she warns.

He looks at her, "What else?"

"Clean your room, or I'll do it for you," she smiles.

"Why are you smiling?"

"What do you mean, why am I smiling?"

"You're acting weird, is everything ok?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"You're cleaning, and smiling about cleaning."

"I am just happy, that's all."

"About what?" he furrows his brow.

She walks up to him, and gives him a smooch on the cheek, "I am just happy that you're my son."

He wipes the slobber off his cheek, "That was uncalled for."

"I want you to take that pile with you," she points to the socks, keys, and ear buds.

"Am I dismissed?"

She nods, "Go clean your room."

"I'm going to take a nap, first I..."

She cuts him off, "Clean your room."

"I will."

"Now."

"Or what?"

"Don't you have plans later this evening?"

"To do what?"

"I thought that you were going somewhere with Fin."

"Oh, yeah, I am," he looks at her, with a puzzled expression, "How did you know that? I didn't tell you that."

"He did," she reveals.

"Oh."

* * *

Ethan knocks on Fin's apartment door. Fin jumps up from the table, and answers the door.

"Come in," Fin ushers him in.

Ethan looks at the table, and finds that someone else is sitting there. He closes the door, and shoots Fin a questioning look.

"I didn't know anyone else would be here," Ethan reveals.

"Have a seat," Fin points to the empty chair.

Ethan takes a seat at the table. Fin reclaims his seat. Between them sits another individual. Fin breaks the awkward silence.

"Ethan, this is Ken."

"Nice to meet you," Ethan extends a hand.

"Ken this is Ethan."


	40. Just The Beginning

"Nice to meet you, Ethan."

"We should eat, before the food gets cold," Fin suggests.

Ken looks over at him, and shakes his head, "I think it can wait."

"Five minutes ago you were complaining, because I told you to wait. What gives?" Fin questions.

"What gives is some kid shows up, to break bread with us, and you give zero explanation of who he is."

"I introduced you," Fin points out.

"Dad, who is he, to you?" Ken queries.

Ethan looks at Fin, "Maybe I shouldn't be here. I think I should go. Obviously the two of you have some things to work out, or whatever," he scoots his chair out.

Fin reacts, quickly, "No, stay. You're not going anywhere. Neither of you are."

"What's going on here? You said that we needed to talk about something important. You didn't mention that anyone else was coming. What is it that we needed to talk about? And if you really needed to talk to me, then why did you invite a stranger over to do it, in front of?" Ken wonders.

"He's not a stranger," Fin reveals.

"Then who is he?" Ken asks.

"He's your brother," Fin reveals.

Ken falls silent. Ethan stares at them, like a deer caught in the headlights. He doesn't know what to say, or do, so he sits there, completely frozen.

"My what?!"

"Your brother," Fin repeats.

"I don't understand," Ken admits.

"That is why I wanted you to come," Fin tells him.

"This kid looks pretty white. I am not sure that I believe you."

Ethan scoots his chair out. He shakes his head, and goes for the door.

Fin calls after him, "Where are you going?"

"I shouldn't be here," he answers as he reaches for the door knob.

Fin follows him out of the apartment, into the hallway. He closes the door to the apartment.

"Ethan, wait," he insists.

Ethan turns, and looks at him, "I'm going home."

"Why?"

"Because, I don't belong here. I don't fit into your life. I am just a white boy, who goes to private school. I don't fit into the picture, here."

"Ethan, don't even try to sell me that."

"Sell you what? That is the truth."

"You are my son, and I want to be part of your life. I don't care where you go to school. I don't care that you look more like your mother, than you do me. None of that matters."

Ethan shakes his head, in disbelief, "It matters to him. I can't imagine that we are going to have anything in common."

"Just give it a chance. I want you to get to know each other."

"Why?"

"Because the two of you are brothers."

"I don't think he wants to get to know me."

"He doesn't have a choice."

"You can't just force him to like me. You can't make him want to get to know me."

"Come back inside," Fin begs.

"Why? Give me one good reason."

"Because you're my son."

Against his better judgment, Ethan follows Fin back into the apartment. Ken looks up, from his seat at the table, as they enter the apartment.

"So explain this to me. How is he my brother? Is that just some figure of speech?"

"No," Fin shakes his head, "he is your brother."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

Ken shakes his head, "If that is true why am I just now finding out about him?"

"Because I didn't know about him, either," Fin admits.

"Are you being serious right now?" Ken raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Ok," Ken nods.

Fin points to the table, "Ethan, have a seat."

Once they're all seated Ken continues the conversation, "So explain this to me."

"Ethan is sixteen. I only found out that he was my son a couple of weeks ago."

"He's your son? With who?"

Fin shakes his head, "That doesn't matter."

"I want to know," Ken insists.

"We'll get to that in a minute."

"Why didn't we know?"

"His mother didn't tell me."

"Why not?"

"Because I was still married to your mother, when he was conceived."

"Oh."

"She didn't want to ruin our family."

Ken scoffs, "You did that all on your own."

"We're not here to talk about that."

"Sorry."

"Ken, I made a lot of mistakes with you, and I didn't get the chance to correct all of them, with him."

"But?"

"But he's your brother, and I want the two of you to get to know each other. It's important to me."

Ken looks at Ethan, who refuses to make eye contact, "So I assume his mom is white."

Ethan looks up, and shakes his head, "Who cares? Why does everyone always care about race? We're all so mixed up, anyway."

Ken smirks, and looks over at Fin, "He sounds like you."

"Thankfully his basketball playing is better than mine."

"So can I ask who your mother is?" Ken ignores Fin, and directs the question at Ethan.

"I don't think that I should be the one to tell you that," Ethan admits.

"Is it someone I know?" he asks Ethan.

Ethan just shrugs.

"Yeah," Fin confirms.

"So who is it?"


	41. Seeing Red

"All I am going to say is that you know her, and you like her," Fin answers.

"Ethan what is your last name?"

"It doesn't matter," he answers.

"The way that you're dodging my questions has me thinking that you have been involved with the law. So you've either had run ins with the law, or your a cops kid."

"I am a cops kid. Fin is a cop."

"But you just met him recently," Ken points out.

"Can we just drop it."

"A female cop that I know, and like?" Ken's eyes widen.

"Boys let's eat before the food gets any colder," Fin suggests.

"It's Olivia," Ken realizes.

Neither Ethan, or Fin say anything.

"Isn't it?" Ken queries, "Is your mom Olivia? I can't believe Olivia has a kid."

"That what everyone always says," Ethan answers, "Even she isn't perfect."

"So at some point in time you were close enough to Olivia to knock her up?" Ken inquires, looking at Fin.

"I don't think that I would put it like that," Fin responds.

"It doesn't matter how you put it. That is basically what happened," Ethan tells him, in confirmation.

* * *

Ethan slams the door of the apartment, when he enters. Olivia is in the kitchen doing dishes.

"What is your problem?" she turns around, and looks at him.

"Nothing," he lies, heading for the hallway.

"Whoa! Where do you think you're going?" she questions him.

"To my room."

"Not until you tell me why you're slamming doors," Olivia insists.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," he apologizes trying to escape her wrath. He continues towards the hallway.

"Ethan, freeze. We are not done with this conversation."

He turns, and looks at her, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why are you in such a bad mood?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

"Well it needs to stop. This is not the kid that I know."

His nostrils flare. He has had all that he can take for one day. His face turns red, and he flies off the handle. "You don't know everything about me, ok? Just drop it!"

She doesn't miss a beat. She wipes her hands off on a dishtowel, and points to the couch. She raises her voice, "Sit down, now!" She insists in a stern tone.

"I don't want to talk."

"Sit."

He begrudgingly takes a seat on the arm of the couch. He folds his arms across his chest.

"I don't care if you are in a bad mood you will not speak to me like that. I will not tolerate you being disrespectful, and you know that. I would really appreciate you telling me what is going on."

"I went to Fin's today."

"I know."

"And he wasn't there alone."

"What do you mean? He had a girl there?"

Ethan shakes his head, "Not at all."

"Who was there?"

"Ken."

"Oh."

"You knew I had a brother?"

"Yes," Olivia confirms.

"You always knew that I had a brother?"

"Yes," she nods, again.

"And you never told me?"

"Ethan, I am sorry."

"I am sixteen years old, and this is the first time I've ever met my brother."

"I'm sorry."

"And it was awkward. I mean how are you supposed to connect with someone who is your family, but you don't even know? I mean what was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know."

"You could have told me."

"I said that I am sorry."

"Not to mention I felt completely ambushed. It would have been nice to know that he was going to be there."

"I thought Fin told you that you have a brother."

"He did, but it wasn't real until I saw him. None of this seems even remotely possible. I just can't believe that everything I thought that I knew isn't true. I feel like my entire life has been a lie."

"And you blame me?"

He nods, and his nostrils flare, "Who else would I blame?"

His comments breaks her heart. She doesn't know how to respond.

"Can I go to my room now?"

"Yes, but this conversation isn't over."

"You know it would have been really nice to have these conversations years ago."

"I know."

"I should probably go to the gym."

"Ethan you just got home."

"I am pretty angry, and I don't really think that you would approve of me punching the wall."

"Just take a deep breath, and calm down."

"That is easy for you to say. You have known everything from day one. I am the one who just had my entire life turned upside down."

He pushes himself off the couch, and heads down the hallway. He grabs his gym bag, and then makes a beeline for the door.

"Ethan come on."

"I am going to the gym. I may be back, and I may not."

"Please don't act like this," she begs.

"Like what? I am pissed."

"I know that..." she begins.

"Mom, you don't get it. I don't want to talk about my feelings right now. I just want to get out of here before I do something stupid, ok? I have to leave. I am angry at you, and I think it is best for me not to be around you right now."

"Are you saying that you would hit me?"

"I am just saying me being here, looking at you, knowing that you knew, that makes me angrier, and angrier by the second."


	42. Son Of A Gun

Her phone rings and she expects it to be work, or her son calling to apologize. Ethan has been gone for hours, and she is beginning to worry. She answers her phone on the first ring, without checking the caller I.D."Benson," she answers out of habit.

"Have you heard from Ethan?"

"No. When he got home from your place he was angry. He went to the gym."

"How long ago was that?"

Olivia checks her watch, "About three hours ago, why?"

"He won't answer my calls or texts," Fin reveals.

"Oh."

"I know he is angry but I didn't know that I made him that angry," Fin admits.

"I have to be honest I am starting to get worried. Even when he's angry he always answers his phone. If he's too angry to answer my call he will at least text me to let me know that everything is ok. He knows how my mind works."

"Were cops if our kid doesn't answer his phone we automatically think the worst."

"I know that I do," Olivia admits.

"Should we go down to the gym, and make sure that he's there."

"I am sure that if he is that is going to go over like a lead balloon. Can you imagine your parents coming to find you at the gym, when you were sixteen? You would have died of embarrassment."

"I would have gotten over it. You don't sound convinced that it is a very good idea."

"Because it's not."

"Aren't you worried about him?" Fin inquires.

"Yes."

"So why don't you want to go look for him?"

"I didn't say that I don't."

"You said we shouldn't go get him."

"I think that it would be a mistake for the both of us to go together."

"Why? We are his parents," Fin reminds her with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"I just meant that he may feel as if we're ganging up on him, if we do that. Maybe you should go," she suggests.

"What are you going to do?"

"I am going to look for him a couple of other places he may have gone."

"Ok. What if we can't find him?"

"I don't want to cross that bridge until we come to it," she admits.

"Ok," he agrees.

Fin arrives at the gym the receptionist tells him that his son left over an hour ago, after some persuasion on his part. He leaves the gym, and pulls out his phone. There is still no response.

Olivia closes the car door, and heads into the cemetery. She makes her way down the cement walkway. Forty yards ahead, at a recently dug grave she finds a tall figure. He stands in front of the headstone, as still as a statue. The young man has his back to her. Even from thirty five yards away she can tell that it is her son. She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out her phone.

Fin answers on the first ring. He's now in his car, waiting to get out of his parking spot.

"Anything?"

"I found him."

"Where is he?"

"He is at the cemetery," Olivia reveals.

"Visiting Nate?"

"Yeah," she confirms, looking up.

"Is he ok?"

"I haven't talked to him yet. He doesn't know I'm here."

"Oh."

Olivia watches as a group of young men walks towards Nate's grave from her left. They move towards her son too quickly for comfort.

"Hold on a minute," she insists, as she too moves towards her son. She reaches for the weapon on her hip, quickly realizing that it isn't there. In her haste to get out of the house to find her son, she's forgotten it at home.

"Olivia?" the voice on the other end of the phone calls.

She doesn't answer. She swiftly moves towards her son. Ethan looks up, and finds a group of three young men moving towards him. He recognizes one of them, and his stomach instantly twists into knots. He wants to run, but he knows better than to turn his back on them. They stop a few feet from him. He swallows hard, and opens his mouth to speak.

"Don't say anything," the young man in the middle warns, "Just tell mommy dearest this is a message."

Against his better judgment Ethan opens his mouth anyway, "Gentleman think about this. This isn't going to end well for you. You can leave now, and be free. Walk away, before it is too late," Ethan warns, seeing his mother out of the corner of his eye, knowing that the others haven't noticed her yet.

On the other end of the phone line Fin listens carefully. He knows that Olivia's instincts have kicked in, and that she has forgotten that she is on the phone. She stands behind a monument. She breathes heavily, afraid of what might happen next. Fin races towards his son. Olivia watches, frozen in fear. The sound of a shot being fire sets a series of events in motion that are out of their control. Olivia races towards her son, as his body shoot backwards, towards the ground. The three young men see her, and begin to run.

She finally reaches Ethan. She kneels next to him. He looks up at her. He shakes his head.

"Go," he tells her.

She stays next to him.

"Go," he repeats, in anger, "I'm ok."

She quickly assesses the situation, and takes off, like a rocket towards the fleeing suspects. She only has one in her sights. Luckily it is the only one that she wants. Nearby she can hear yelling. She reaches forward, and pushes the shooter to the ground. He falls to the ground. She presses her knee into his back to prevent him from moving. Her phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket.

"Hello?"

"Liv, I'm coming your way," the voice on the other end reassures her.

Fin shoves the two other suspects into the back of his squad car. He managed to reach the park as Olivia fell silent. He slams the door shut, and moves towards Olivia. He slaps a pair of cuffs onto the suspect that she has on the ground. He nods, moving towards the car.

"Ethan?" he questions, as his eyes widen.


	43. When Right Feels So Wrong

"He's ok," she insists.

"Our son just got shot, and you chose to chase down the suspect instead?"

"Fin he's fine."

"Olivia you are unbelievable," he growls as he runs towards Ethan.

When they reach him, he is sitting on the ground, with his back to the headstone. He is trying to peel his shirt off. He winces in pain.

"What are you doing?" Fin questions.

Olivia doesn't say a word. She kneels beside Ethan, and peels the shirt off him.

"Get this thing off of me," he insists.

She pulls the velcro tabs, and lifts the vest off of him.

"Ethan why are you wearing a bulletproof vest?" Fin questions.

"I got a call on my way home from your house," he begins.

"From who?" Olivia wonders.

"The guy who killed Nate, his goonies. They are having a hard time with their organization since he is in prison awaiting trial. Several of them have been thrown in prison with him. These guys called me. They said they wanted to meet and have a conversation. They said that they needed my help."

"Why would you do that?" Fin queries.

"Because I knew if I didn't agree they would hunt me down."

Olivia shakes her head in disbelief, "Do you know how dangerous this was?"That is why I took your vest. I knew what would happen."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Olivia asks.

"I couldn't. You wouldn't have let me come."

"She would have been right," Fin points out.

"What if we hadn't come looking for you?"

"What if we didn't find you in time?" Fin chimes in.

"I knew that if I didn't answer my phone, or texts that you would come looking for me. I also knew that you lojacked my phone. I figured after driving around looking for me for a few minutes you would remember you put a GPS tracking device on my phone, and you would find me."

"How could you know that?" Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"Because I know you," he explains.

"You could have gotten hurt, or killed," Olivia lectures him, "This could have ended very badly."

"But it didn't," Ethan argues, "It worked out exactly the way that I knew it would. You caught the guys."

"I am just glad that you are safe," Olivia hugs him.

"I think what your mother is trying to say is that you're grounded," Fin steps in.

"For a month," Olivia agrees.

"I'll take it."

Fin scrutinizes his son to make sure there isn't a mark on him. Olivia does the same. Once they are satisfied that he only has a few abrasions, and contusions, they take a step back. Fin looks over at Olivia.

"This creates a problem," Fin realizes.

"What do you mean?" Ethan questions.

"Do you know how the defense is going to make this look? Your parents caught the guys who shot you. They are going to say that it was a plot against these kids," Fin explains.

"We have a bigger problem than that," Olivia tells him.

"What's that?" Fin asks.

"If this goes to trial we are going to have to disclose the fact that we are his parents."

Ethan furrows his brow in confusion, "I thought you already disclosed that. I mean don't people know that?"

Fin shakes his head, "The captain doesn't know that I'm your father. He only knows that Olivia is your mother."

"But the department doesn't know," Olivia adds.

"And that is a problem," Fin finishes.

"What happens now?"

"We could lose our jobs," Olivia explains.

"So your jobs are in jeopardy, because I did something to help catch a bunch of hooligans?""Ethan don't worry about it."

"No this isn't fair. What can I do to make this right?"

"Nothing," Olivia insists.

"Let them go," Ethan tells her.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't wear a bulletproof vest everyday for the rest of your life. If I let them go you have a target on your back," Fin explains.

"You can't do this. It will destroy your careers," Ethan disagrees.

"We have to."

"Why?"

"Because it is our job to protect you," Olivia reminds him.

"I'm sorry."

Fin shakes his head, "You don't have anything to be sorry about. You were trying to do the right thing."

"I just never do it the right way," Ethan points out.

"We will figure this out, ok?" Fin promises.

"And if we don't?"

"We will," Olivia vows.

"But..."Olivia interrupts him, "Ethan, Fin is going to take them to the precinct for booking. I am going to take you home, and I am going to go talk to the Captain, and the DA."

Fin interjects, "He shouldn't be home alone, just in case. Drop him off at Ken's place. I'll call and let him know you're coming."

Ethan shakes his head, "No I don't want to do that. He hates my guts."

Fin rolls his eyes, "He's your brother. He doesn't hate you."

"He certainly didn't give me a very warm welcome."

"He takes a minute to warm up to people, but I assure you he doesn't want anything to happen to you."

"I am sorry that I made such a mess of everything," Ethan apologizes.

"Don't ever be sorry for doing the right thing," Fin advises.

"This doesn't feel like the right thing," Ethan argues.

"The right thing is rarely the easy thing," Olivia reminds him.


	44. Confession

She enters the office, closing the door behind her. She takes a seat, in front of her Captain, with a sullen look on her face. He looks at her questioningly.

"Liv what are you doing here on a Saturday? You should be with your son."

"We need to talk."

"What more could we possibly have to talk about?"

"More things that you don't want to hear."

"Then don't tell me."

"I don't have a choice."

"Why not?"

"My son was shot, earlier today."

"Shot? Is he ok?"

"He had my vest on."

"What happened?"

"Three young men involved with the guy who killed Ethan's best friend contacted him. He didn't tell me. He went on his own. He baited them."

"Why?"

"They threatened to kill him. He knew it was the only way to catch them."

"What happened?"

"They hit him in the vest. They didn't know he was wearing it. I got concerned when he wouldn't answer his phone. I activated the tracking device on the phone. I found him, and we caught the suspects as they were fleeing the scene."

"Ok. Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because it is probably going to go to trial, unless the DA is willing to make a deal."

"Why are you here?"

"Because they are going to claim it was a set up."

"Why?"

"Because of who the arresting officer was," Olivia answers.

"You arrested them?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I know how defense attorney's work. I know how they think."

"What do you mean?"

"The truth is going to come out."

"What truth?"

"I just don't want you to be blindsided."

"By what?"

"Who Ethan's father is."

Cragen shakes his head, "Wait, his father is a fellow officer? Is that what you are telling me?"

"Yes," she reveals.

"You had a relationship with another cop? Olivia that isn't exactly going to make the front page news."

"It is going to be a PR nightmare."

"Why? Cops have relationships with other cops all of the time."

"You don't understand."

"Is it Elliot?"

"No."

"It's not your partner, so why does it matter?"

"He was the arresting officer."

"Olivia why are you so worried how this is going to look?"

"Because I don't want the department to look bad. I don't want you to lose credibility because of the choices that I have made."

"What choices? Olivia just tell me exactly what the issue is."

"Ethan's father is a co-worker."

"You already said that he was a fellow cop," Don points out.

"He is a current co-worker," she reveals.

"A current co-worker? You are telling me that your son's father is someone that you work with, now?"

"Yes," she nods, in confirmation.

"And you were in a relationship with him, when your son was conceived?"

She shakes her head, "We were never in a relationship."

"What do you mean? You managed to conceive a child."

She nods, "While we were undercover."

"What?!"

"We were undercover as a married couple when Ethan was conceived."

"Ok. We will figure out a way to deal with this."

"And he was married at the time," Olivia adds.

"Who is it? Olivia please just tell me who it is."

"Fin."

"Fin? You two have a son, and neither of you told me?"

"I'm sorry."

"The both of you hid this from me, the entire time you have been here?"

She shakes her head, "No. He didn't know."

Don furrows his brow, "What do you mean, he didn't know?"

"Fin didn't know."

"He didn't know?"

"I never told him about Ethan," she admits.

"When did he find out?"

"Just after I told everyone that I had a son."

"Liv this is bad."

"I know that."

"So let me get this straight, the two of you caught the three young men responsible for shooting your son?"

"Yes."

"Why were you both there?"

"I couldn't find Ethan. He always answers his phone, and he wouldn't. We had an argument earlier, and he headed to the gym. Hours later when he still wasn't home, and I couldn't reach him I called Fin."

"And you both wound up at the same place, at the same time?"

"Yes."

"Did either of you have communication with Ethan, before he got shot?"

"No, I got there just as the three young men arrived. Fin arrived after I did."

Don rubs his temples, "Ok. I'll figure it out."

"What can I do?"

He warns her, "Don't do anything. Don't say anything. I want to speak to your son."

She nods, and points out the window, "He's sitting at my desk."


	45. Unsaid

Weeks later she is still tossing and turning, despite the fact that her son's attackers are behind bars, after making a rather generous deal with the DA. She finds herself sleeping less, and less lately. It's Friday night, and she crawls out of bed. She heads down the hallway. She peeks in her son's room. It is still empty. She reminds herself that he is out, with his brother, and that it is barely midnight. She grabs her phone of the kitchen counter, and shoots him a text. She quickly receives a response that Ethan is staying with Ken for the night, and that he will be home in the morning. Olivia picks up the phone, and dials a familiar number. The party on the other end answers after two rings.

"Hello," he responds.

"Are you sleeping?"

"At two am? No, actually I'm not. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Is Ethan ok?"

"He is staying the night with Ken. Something about a new video game, or something."

"Oh. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I never sleep when he isn't home."

"So you thought you would call me, and wake me up?"

"You weren't sleeping," she pints out.

"You hungry?"

"Not particularly."

"Bored?"

"I won't be sleeping anytime soon."

"I'll be over in a few."

"Ok," she agrees.

He is at her apartment within fifteen minutes. He brings a case of beer with him. He takes a seat on her couch, next to her, after entering the apartment.

"Fin I keep thinking how easily all of this could turn into something really ugly."

"I know," he nods.

"We could lose our jobs," she points out.

"I know."

"But even worse than that we could lose our son."

"We bought a little bit of time."

"A year. They are away for a year. When they get out they are going to come looking for him. He can't wear a bulletproof vest for the rest of his life."

"I talked to the D.A. earlier. They are being brought up on other charges, too. Hopefully something will stick."

"And if it doesn't, then what?"

"We'll have to figure something out."

"I can't put him in a bubble, no matter how much I want to," she points out.

"He'll be going to college soon enough."

"Don't remind me," she groans.

"He will probably go away for college, you know."

"I don't want to think about it."

"It can be a good thing. We won't have to worry as much if he is in Ohio, or some other state."

"There is crime there, too."

"Olivia you worry entirely too much about him. He is a good kid."

She shakes her head, "It isn't him that I worry about. It is the world around him that concerns me."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Ok," she agrees, "Like what?"

"Do you wonder how things would have been different, if you had told me?"

She nods, "All of the time."

"Me too."

"I know I made a mistake."

"You weren't entirely wrong. I don't know what kind of a father I would have been to him sixteen years ago. I was still caught up in my own ego then. You did an amazing job with him. He really is a good kid."

"I have been lucky."

"Do you ever wish that you had given him a sibling?"She shakes her head, "As a single parent it was all I could do to take care of him."

"Being a single parent was your choice," he reminds her, "and that isn't what I meant. I meant if circumstances had been different would you have had another kid?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I never wanted to live in the suburbs with a white picket fence."

He smirks, "I can't picture you doing that, in a million years."

"I made some sacrifices for my career that I wish I hadn't. I missed things in his life that I shouldn't have."

"We all miss things, no matter how hard we try. We can't be with them twenty four seven."

"I know."

"Liv are we alright?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" she raises an eyebrow.

"There have been a lot of things that have changed in our lives lately."

"We are fine," she insists.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," she looks away.

"Then why won't you look at me?" he wonders.

She stares at the floor. He nudges her.

"Olivia?"

She looks over at him, and shakes her head, "We both made some stupid decisions."

"What stupid decisions are you talking about? I have made a lot of them."

She shakes her head, "Forget it."

"Are you talking about what happened a few weeks ago?"

"I think we should start off with a clean slate," she suggests.

"I want to know what you're not mentioning."

"Nothing," she lies.

"Liv, whatever it is, just tell me."

"I can't," she argues.

"Look I don't want things to be awkward. I know that we are co-workers but, we also have a son. We have to find some middle ground."

"What we did a few weeks ago, that was not middle ground."

"Are you saying that I crossed a line?"

"I am saying that we both did."

"It won't happen again," he reassures her.


	46. Zero Chemistry

He looks over at his mother. She's lying on the couch, snoring. It is ten o'clock in the morning, and the TV is on some corny movie. He nudges her shoulder with his hand. He grabs the remote off the coffee table, and shuts the TV off.

"Hey wake up."

She opens her eyes, and looks at him, "When did you get home?"

"An hour ago."

She sits up, and looks at him, "What time is it?"

"A few minutes after ten."

"Oh."

"Why are you asleep?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"Did you have a late night, or something?"

"You know I don't sleep, when you're gone."

"Exactly."

"Exactly, what?"

"You're acting weird. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on."

"When did you go to sleep?"

She shrugs, "I don't know some time after five."

"What were you doing until five o'clock in the morning? I mean that is extreme, even for you."

"Don't worry about it."

"Just tell me, and I won't."

"I was up late talking."

"To yourself?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Then who were you talking to, until five o'clock in the morning?"

"No one," she lies.

"Someone. It wasn't me, because I wasn't here. Who could you possibly be talking to at five o'clock in the morning."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why are you being so secretive?"

"I was talking to Fin."

"You were talking to my father?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"About what?"

"You."

"You called and woke him up at five am to talk about me?"

"No. I didn't call him at five am."

"You called him at four thirty?"

"I called him at two."

"At two? You talked to him for three hours on the phone. You hate talking on the phone. I don't buy that for a second."

"He ended up coming over."

"Whoa! Just stop right there. I do not want to hear that my parents were together in the same apartment at two o'clock in the morning, while I was away. That is really more information than I need. You can just stop right there."

"You were the one leading the interrogation."

"And," he comments, "I'm the one ending it, right here."

"Why must you always assume the worst about people?"

"Because you taught me to. Excuse me, I've got to go scrub my eyeballs out with rubbing alcohol."

"What?!"

"There is a mental image that I have got to scrub out."

"Ethan don't be ridiculous. He is your father. He is my colleague. The fact that he was here until five o'clock in the morning means nothing."

"Yeah, ok," he rolls his eyes. He leaves the room. She gets off the couch, and heads into her room. She closes the door behind her. She reaches down, and picks up a pillow off the floor. She chucks it onto the bed, as she locks the door behind her.

"What was that for?"

"Shh!" she warns.

He looks at the alarm clock, and then looks at her, as she approaches the bed.

"What?" he yawns.

"Ethan is in the other room. You have got to go," she whispers.

"Where did you go?"

"I woke up earlier. I couldn't sleep any longer, so I went into the living room to watch TV. I must have fallen asleep on the couch."

Fin pulls back the covers. Olivia gathers the clothes off the floor. She hands them to him. He quickly gets dressed as she collects her own clothing. She tosses her clothes into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. He heads for the door.

"Whoa! You can't go out that way."

"How am I going to leave?"

She points to the window. He looks at her, and shakes his head, "I am not going down the fire escape. We are not a couple of seventeen year old kids."

"Fine, but you are going to be the one to explain this to your son."

He nods, "I'll just head down the fire escape."

She opens the window for him. He climbs out, and heads down the fire escape. She closes the window, and locks it behind him. She strips her bedclothes, and tosses them into the laundry hamper. She goes into her closet, and gets out fresh linens. She makes the bed, and then heads for her bedroom door. She unlocks the door, and steps into the living room. She finds Ethan sitting on the couch, looking at her.

"Who were you talking to, in there?"

"No one."

"I thought that I heard voices," he comments.

"Ethan you are being ridiculous."

"So who were you talking to?"

"I was talking to myself. You know I talk to myself when I clean."

"What were you cleaning?" he cocks an eyebrow, in suspicion.

"I was just making the bed.

"So there wasn't someone in there with you?"

"No, of course not."

"Are you sure?"

"Ethan I assure you that there was no one in there with me."

He rolls his eyes, "I hope you, and no one used protection."

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me."

"Just because you weren't here does not mean that I had someone over. After Fin left, I fell asleep on the couch. Nothing happened, ok?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she insists.

"Good, because that would just be awkward. The thought of you two ever being in close enough proximity to create me is awkward. There is just no chemistry there."


	47. Evidence

He looks over at the woman in his bed. He smirks. She looks at him, with his sheet tucked under her arm, covering her naked body.

"What?" she questions.

"Where did you tell him that you are?"

"That I'm working late," she answers.

"So you lied to him?"

She smiles, "I told him that we had to work late."

"So the only part of it that is a lie, is being at work?"

"I could make it seem like work," she warns.

"Don't you feel guilty."

"For what?"

"Lying to our kid?"

"I have to get to have a life, too."

"And sneaking around like a couple of high school kids."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You made me climb down the fire escape," he reminds her.

"If it would make you feel any better, I can climb down the fire escape when I leave."

"That isn't necessary."

"Are you sure?" she questions, turning to look at the clock.

"Yeah."

"I should probably get going."

He looks over at her, as she lays under his Egyptian cotton sheets. He shakes his head.

"You don't need to go anywhere."

"It's almost one o'clock in the morning."

"And?"

"We have to be at work in the morning."

"What is your point?"

"I need to get some sleep."

"You can sleep here."

"If I stay you no there will be no sleep involved."

"I don't know that," he argues.

"And, I don't have any clean clothes."

"Stay."

She shakes her head, "I've got to go."

"Are you sure about that?"

He rolls towards him. She kisses him. "Goodnight," she taunts, as she crawls out of the bed. He watches her walk away, as she collects her clothes. She follows the trail of clothes into the living room. She slips on her shoes, and heads for the door.

"Liv?" he calls out.

She turns and looks at him, as he leaves the bedroom.

"Hm?"

"Forgetting something?"

She shakes her head. He holds up her watch.

"Oh."

He slips it into the palm of her hand. She leaves his apartment. She's in bed, asleep by two o'clock.

* * *

Hours later she feels herself being shaken into consciousness. She opens her eyes, and finds her son standing by her bed. She rubs her eyes, and looks at him questioningly.

"What's wrong?"

"Wake up!"

"What's wrong?" she repeats.

"Your freaking alarm clock has been going off for half an hour. Turn it off, and get up. I was sound asleep."

She looks over at the clock, "Shit," she comments, turning the alarm off. She pulls back the covers, and hops out of bed.

"You ok?" he questions as she makes a beeline to the closet to collect clean clothes.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You never oversleep," he points out.

"I just had a late night, don't worry about it."

"I have never known you to sleep through the alarm clock."

"As much as I would love to argue with you about this, I have to get ready for work."

"Fine."

* * *

Her partner looks up, from his desk at her. He shakes his head, looking at his watch.

"I know I was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"You're never late, what happened?"

"Nothing, I just overslept."

"I don't buy it. You are the most punctual person that I know," Nick argues.

"I just had a late night," she admits.

"We left here just after eleven."

"I couldn't fall asleep," she admits.

* * *

He changes his clothes, and meets Ethan in the living room.

"Are you ready to go, buddy?"

"Yeah," he nods, rising from the couch.

Fin heads towards the door. Ethan stops halfway there. Fin turns and looks at him. Ethan reaches down, and picks something up, off the floor.

"Let's go," Fin insists.

Ethan holds up the shiny metallic object, "I think someone lost something."

"Just lay it on the table," Fin suggests.

Ethan looks at the gold hoop. "It isn't your earring, is it?"

"No," Fin admits, knowing that Ethan will call him out, if he lies.

"So it belongs to a girl?"

"Can we talk about this later? I don't want to be late to the movies."

* * *

When he gets home he finds Olivia removing the couch cushions. He closes the apartment door, and clears his throat.

"What are you doing?"

"Just looking for something."

"If you tell me what you're looking for I might be able to help."

"Just my earring."

"When was the last time you remember wearing it?"

She thinks about it for a minute, "I'm not sure," she lies.

He reaches into the pocket of his shorts. He pulls out an earring. He holds his hand, palm up. He shows it to her.

"This earring?" he questions.

She turns and looks at him as he places the earring in her hand.

"That's it," she confirms.


	48. Unlikely

"I am glad that I could reunite the two of you."

"Thanks."

"You're not going to ask where I found it?"

"Probably the bathroom. I think I dropped it in there, before I got in the shower last night."

"Really? That is the story you're going to go with?"

"Story? It isn't a story. I think that's what happened."

"It's not," he tells her.

"How do you know?"

"Because, I know where I found it," he responds.

"And where was that?"

"On the floor."

"In the bathroom?" she queries.

"In the living room," he responds.

"Oh. Ok."

"Not here," he reveals.

She swallows hard, "What?"

"I found it at Fin's apartment, on the floor, in his living room. Would you care to explain that?"

She doesn't say anything.

"I'm not even going to ask. I am just going to go vomit now," he turns to leave the room.

"Wait," she calls after him.

He doesn't stop, he continues towards his room. He slams the door.

* * *

He pulls the door open. She steps into the apartment.

"I didn't know that you were coming over," Fin admits.

"I didn't either."

"What are you doing here?"

"Our son refuses to talk to me. He locked himself in his room, and he won't come out."

"So our son is acting like a teenage girl?"

"He has good reason."

"What happened?"

"He found my earring."

"I know."

"So does he," she reveals.

Fin furrows his brow, "What do you mean by that?"

"He put it together. I was looking for my earring. He pulled the one he found here out of his pocket. He asked if it was mine. I said it was, and then he told me where he found it. He automatically assumed that it meant we were together."

"Why didn't you tell him that..."

She cuts him off, "I tried, but he left the room. He didn't want to hear it."

"So he knows?" Fin questions.

"Yeah," she nods.

"Maybe that is a good thing," he suggests.

"I don't think so. He did not take it well at all. He seemed pretty disgusted."

"Maybe he will come around," Fin hopes.

"And if he doesn't?"

"He is a teenager. He doesn't really get a say, does he?"

"He means everything to me," Olivia reminds him.

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe it's best if we stop while we're ahead."

"Olivia we are both adults. We can make decisions independently of what our kid thinks. I think that we have something really good going here."

"I don't want to put my relationship with my son in jeopardy, just because we have fun together."

He steps forward. He kisses her. She kisses him back. He takes a step back.

"You are really ready to give this up? We don't even know where this is going."

"It is going to end badly. Fin we are co-workers."

"I am telling you that we have chemistry. It is unfair to ignore that."

"I would never have pictured this, if..." she trails off.

"If you hadn't gotten drunk when we were undercover, and known how you felt when we crossed the line?"

"I think that was part of the appeal."

"What do you mean?" he furrows his brow.

"Thinking that we might get caught."

"So now that someone knows it isn't as exciting?"

"That isn't what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Why don't you stay here, tonight?"

"I don't think that is a very good idea."

"Ethan can have time to cool off."

"And what are you planning on doing?"

"Getting things heated up. If you wake up tomorrow morning, and you decide that this really isn't what you want I can respect that. If you feel like it isn't worth it, that you don't want to see where this is going, I will live with that. Ok?"

"Yeah," she agrees, foolishly.

She wakes up early the next morning. She looks at the clock, and then looks over at the man in bed next to her. Of all of the people in the world she would never have imagined that it could work with him. She knows that no one would ever expect them to be together. As she lies there in the dark she reminds herself that they were together in the past. They were together under the worst of circumstances. Circumstances that resulted in a son. The one person in the world that her world revolves around.

* * *

She stares at Fin, as he sleeps. Imagining that they could create such an incredible human being together, is beyond belief. She pulls the covers up some, and moves towards him. He opens her eyes, and looks at her. He lifts his arm, and she slides under it. His hand rests on her arm as he holds her close. He kisses her lips, tempting her. She smiles back at him.

"You know what you're doing, don't you?"

"I am just trying to convince you that this is where you belong," he responds.

"Do you really think that this could work outside this room?"

He smirks, "It works on the couch."

She shakes her head, "And the kitchen table, but that is not what I meant."

"You mean in the real world?"

She nods.

"Like we would go out in public, and have a date?"

"Something like that," he confirms.

"Why wouldn't it? We complement each other. It works because people expect it not to. It works because we want it to."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then I will just have to prove it to you. We will go on a date."

"Ethan is going to hate that."

"I don't understand. Most kids want their parents to be together."

"It is all new to him. We are going to have to give him time."


	49. Resistant To Change

"Mom? Mom have you seen my keys?" he hollers as he looks on the counter for his set of keys. She doesn't answer him.

"Mom did you hear me? Hello?"

She doesn't respond. He goes to her bedroom door. He knocks, but she doesn't say anything. The door is slightly ajar so he pushes it open.

"Mom where are you?"

"What?" she responds from behind the bathroom door.

"Have you seen my keys? I'm going to be late for school."

"Did you look under the couch cushion?"

"No, but I will. Are you ok in there?"

"I'm fine," she insists.

"Ok," he leaves the room. He returns to the living room. He removes the couch cushion, and finds his keys, and a five dollar bill. He smiles as he shoves them into his pocket.

"Mom I'm leaving."

She comes into the living room, in her pajamas.

"You look rough this morning," he comments.

"I love you too."

He heads for the door, "See you."

"Wait did you forget something?"

He turns and looks at her. He hugs her, "Bye."

"Bye," she lets go of him.

"Are you sure that you're ok?" he questions, "You look pale, and you have dark circles under your eyes. Are you sick?"

"No. I'm just tired. You need to go, or you're going to be late for school."

"Ok. Love you," he waves as he rushes out the front door.

She leaves the living room, and returns to the bathroom. She closes the door behind her, simply out of habit. She grips the counter top. She looks in the mirror at herself. Her son is right. She looks pale, and she has humongous dark circles under her eyes. She swallows hard, and reaches for her hair brush to pull her hair into a pony tail. She falls short, as her attention falls on something else. She looks over, at the counter. Her left hand rests on the counter, by the sink. She stares at the object next to her left hand. She shakes her head in disbelief. She grabs the object, and closes the lid on the toilet. She lowers herself into a sitting position. She stares at the plastic object in utter disbelief. She hears the hand of her watch ticking. She looks at the watch, and realizes that it's time for her to go.

* * *

She sits across the dinner table from Fin. The room is awkwardly silent. Ethan sits to her left, and Ken sits to her right. Fin sits at the other end of the table. He looks up at her, shooting her a questioning look. Ethan glances at his parents, and then at his brother.

"Ken what time did you say that movie started?"

Ken looks at his watch, "In forty minutes."

Ethan looks at Olivia, "Mom is it ok if we go, you never did say."

She returns to reality, "Yeah, go ahead."

Ethan kisses her cheek, "Thanks mom."

"Be home by midnight," she warns as he vacates his seat, and heads for the door.

"Will you be home by midnight?" Ethan questions.

"Just go," she answers, in a grouchy tone.

"Thanks," he exits the apartment, with his brother.

Fin waits until the door slams before he says anything. He looks over at her.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah."

"That was an awkward dinner," he points out.

"Aren't they always?" she responds.

"They have been since E found out," he admits.

"At least Ken seems ok with it," she tries to look on the bright side.

"Liv are you sure that you're ok? You barely touched your dinner."

"I'm just preoccupied I guess."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she admits.

"Ok."

"Fin, we need to tell Cragen."

"Tell him what?"

"About us."

"About us? Why now? We've been together for months."

"I just think that it's time. I don't want him to feel like he's being blindsided."

"I think he probably already knows."

"We need to officially tell him."

"You really think that is necessary at the point in the relationship? I mean we're just having fun right now, aren't we?"

"Things could get serious in no time."

"Is that what you want?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Liv why are you acting so weird? What is going on with you?"

"I feel guilty."

"What do you have to feel guilty for?"

"Not telling our boss, first of all."

"And?"

"I feel like I'm losing my son."

"Why would you feel like that?"

"Things have just been different with us, lately."

"He is adjusting. He's growing up."

"And I hate that. In a couple of years he'll be off at college."

"You're worried about an empty nest?"

"No, I'm not worried about an empty nest."

"So what is your concern?"

"That I have completely alienated him."

"You haven't. He just needs some time to adjust. He's a good kid, and he loves you."

"I know that, but he is like me."

"What do you mean?"

"He is resistant to change. He hates it as much as I do."

"And there have been a lot of changes in his life lately," Fin realizes.

"And there are going to be more."

"Olivia I want to be with you, but if you think we need to cool off, for his sake, then I can understand that."

"That isn't what I'm saying," she breaks eye contact.

Fin looks over at her. Something she's said clicks with him.

"You're not worried about having an empty nest?" he furrows his brow.

"No, why?"

"Is there a reason that you aren't worried about having an empty nest, and you want to tell the Captain all of a sudden?"

"Yeah," she admits.

"Yeah?"

"And it is for exactly the reason that you're thinking right now," she reveals, knowing him too well for her own good.


	50. Don't Say It

"Don't say it," he begs.

"Ok," she nods in agreement.

"I need a moment to process this," he admits.

"That's fine. Why don't you sleep on it? I'll go home, and..." she starts to get up.

"Wait," he insists.

"What?"

"Sit back down. I'm not done discussing this with you," he tells her.

"Ok. What would you like to discuss?"

"When did you make this discovery?"

"This morning," she answers.

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure? That is what you want to ask?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know. I guess I am just in shock right now. I didn't think that..." he trails off.

"That what?"

"I guess that I didn't realize that this was a possibility. I just kind of figured that ship had sailed already."

"Fin do you honestly think that I thought this could happen?"

"Probably not."

"This is the last thing that we need to be worrying about right now."

"Have you made a doctor's appointment yet?"

"Yeah, it's on Monday."

"Ok."

"We can't tell Ethan."

"Ever?"

She grins, "For now."

"How are we going to explain this to him?"

"Explain it? He's old enough to know how it happens."

"I feel like we're going to get lectured," he admits.

"I am sure that we will. He is not going to be understanding at all."

"So what does this mean for us?"

She cocks an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"You're pregnant. Eventually that leads to another human being, coming into the world. I am just curious where you're going to put it."

"I was thinking I would just put it in a drawer," she jokes.

"Do you even have any empty drawers?"

"No, but I could make room."

"Olivia you don't have any extra room."

"I know. What do you suggest?"

"We could move in together."

"Your place might be bigger square footage wise, but it still only has two bedrooms. Do you really think that our son is going to be willing to share his room with an infant?"

"Not for one second."

"So where are we going to put it?"

"The dining area," he suggests, jokingly.

"I bet we could fit a basinet in your hall closet. That would be perfect."

"Maybe we should just combine our resources, and get a bigger place, together."

"That seems like a lot of commitment."

"Why are you so afraid of commitment? What is the big deal?"

"Aside from my son I have never felt the need to be tied to one person for the rest of my life. The only reason I feel ok with being tied to him is because I gave birth to him."

"Olivia that is completely ridiculous."

"I know that."

"I don't think that it would be the worst thing in the world if we moved in together. I mean we have a son together, and we're probably going to have another one. What is the big deal? I mean you would take a bullet for someone, why can't we move in together?"

"I am not moving to the suburbs."

"I don't think that I asked you to."

"I just wanted to make that clear."

"What are you afraid of? Are you afraid that I am going to ask you to marry me, or something?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that, and you know it, but I have the feeling that you would never agree."

"Maybe one day."

"Liv I don't believe you," he argues.

"Why not?"

"If you won't do it now, you will never do it."

"You don't know that," she argues.

"Do you want to be with me, and have a family together, or not?"

She furrows her brow, "We already have a son."

"And apparently we've got another kid on the way, so I'm asking you, are you in, or are you out? We did this completely ass-backwards last time. I just think we should try to do things right this time."

"So you want to have a shotgun wedding?"

"Maybe you're the one who should sleep on things."

"What do you mean?"

"While I am still completely shocked by the fact that you're pregnant, I am ok with it. I mean it is going to create some professional challenges for us, and I feel like it's a little late in life to be embarking on this. Still, I am ok with it. You seem completely petrified by the fact that for the next eighteen years we're going to have to be in each other's lives."

"Ok."

"I am going with you to your appointment on Monday. I already have the day off."

"Fine," she rolls her eyes.

* * *

She sits in his squad car, after her appointment. He sits in the driver's seat, she sits in the passenger's seat. She holds the black, and white image in her hands. He looks over her shoulder at it.

"Nine weeks," she breaks the silence.

"You just found out last week?" he questions.

"I guess that I just confirmed it last week."

"How long did you suspect, before you confirmed?"

"It took me a long time to work up the nerve to take a test."

"How long?"

"Almost a month."

"Why?"

"Because I kept hoping that it wasn't what I thought it was. I kept hoping that I was wrong."

"Why? You love kids."

"I was grossly unprepared when I had Ethan. I don't feel anymore prepared now, and he is almost grown."

"You're scared?" he cocks an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," she argues.

"It's ok if you are."

"Just nervous, that's all."

"So we're both off for the rest of the day, what do you want to do?"


End file.
